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FOGG’S FERRY 





‘ PHERE STANDS THE OTHER ! 






FOGG’S FERRY 


a ttbrilUns movel 


BY 

C. E. CALLAHAN 

From His Drama of the Same Name 


ILLUSTRATED 



CHICAGO 

LAIRD & LEE, Publishers 





THE LIBRARY ®F 

congress, 

Two COHiee ftEcevs# 

FEB. 17 1902 

C«?*^WOMT ENTRY 

kv^. on-'' 

CLASS (X, XXa No. 

U- U- 
COPY a 


Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1902, 

By William H. Lee, 

in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 


PREFACE 


f DAany> a great novel has been dramatiii;yd, as ** ^en 
Hur” '' Vanity Fair'' and ** The Three Musketeers,'^ But 
there are few dramas, indeed, in the world's literature, that 
have been transformed into good novels, A number of 
writers have attempted to do this with Shakespeare's 
tragedies or comedies, but without satisfaction to them- 
selves or to the public. 

The fact that the authof op the highly successful drama 
** Fog^s Ferry " himself has written the present novel op 
the same name, is a guarantee that the plot and characters 
were well preserved in all their peculiar charms. 

The thousands that have seen the play will gladly 
welcome this volume which will enable them to recall at 
will the touching scenes, .and those who have not had the 
opportunity, will find the story intensely interesting, sweet 
and true to life. 


THE PUBLISHERS. 



FOGG’S FERRY 


CHAPTER I. 

A CHIP OP THE OLD BLOCK. 

Not a great many years ago a quite youthful 
appearing gentleman, well mounted upon a sup- 
ple and strong-looking gray horse, which showed 
a spirited eye, — something less than a racer in 
short, and far more than a cob, — rode leisurely 
down a rude stony road, or more properly, gully, 
that quite evidently formed a creek bed in rainy 
weather. Reaching a little rise, he drew rein, 
either to breathe his animal or to take observa- 
tions, just where his path wound down abruptly 
towards the broad bosom of the Tennessee river. 

\ Behind him lay hills almost lofty enough to de- 
serve the appellation of mountains; — “ridges,” in 
the vernacular of the region. Hard by to the left 
these elevations had toned down into foot hills 
that ran along the front of the loftier monuments 
like the outworks of a gigantic fortification, 

i 


8 


FOGG'S FERRY 


and jutted out over the river bed almost horizon- 
tally, forming on the side facing the stream an 
almost vertical cliff. The young man^s pathway 
inclined down by the side of this crag to the brink 
of the water, which lay broad and placid as a lake, 
some hundred yards beyond him. Upon his right 
the ground declined swiftly and steeply into a 
broad bottom land, stretching away for miles, 
green with young corn or wheat, and here and 
there patches of cotton and tobacco. A macada- 
mized, though somewhat rutty turnpike, paral- 
leled the river, seeming to his gaze to end against 
the cliff in his front; and upon the far side of the 
broad stream could be seen, when the luxuriant 
foliage did not obscure the view, a similar aid to 
locomotion. 

The hillock beside the youth was covered thick- 
ly along the path by a growth of beach and syca- 
more trees, but between their trunks he could dis- 
cern near the verge of the hill a primitive-appear- 
ing habitation; a hut composed in part of a log- 
cabin with an addition of uncut stone, such as lay 
everywhere along his road. It seemed at first 
glance to be an exposed location for a dwelling, 
but the horseman noticed that it was sheltered 
upon its north and west sides by a bluff, sufid- 


A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK 


9 


ciently lofty to screen it from the storms, which, 
generally arose in that direction.' 

It was a bright Maj' afternoon, rather humid 
and warm, though tempered by a gentle breeze, 
which inclined the young gentleman to doff his 
hat while he gazed about. From an old tree just 
beside him came the monotonous tapping of a busy 
woodpecker, while up from the fields below the 
notes of meadow larks and blue and red birds 
were wafted to his ears. The traveler screened 
his eyes from the sun with his hat, and gazed 
as far down the river as he could see, as if in 
search of some particular object. As distant as 
any object discernible, crowning a scarcely visible 
knoll which lay sheltered by lofty trees, he could 
perceive the roof and cupola of a stately-looking 
mansion. He smiled as his gaze rested upon it. 

^^That I take to be the Judge’s home,” he said to 
himself; ^^and by Jove, it must be fully five miles 
from here. I will have to hurry, I see.” 

He replaced his hat, tightened his reins, spoke 
a word to his mare, and rapidly continued his 
journey towards the river. About fifty yards from 
the water’s edge a narrow footpath debouched 
from the road, and took its course up the rugged 
cliff upon his left; evidently leading to the dwell- 


10 


FOGG^S FERRY 


ing he had seen. Here he paused, as if not cer- 
tain whether or not to seek the house, and natur- 
ally glanced upward. Sitting upon a stump al- 
most over his head he then observed a young girl, 
or more properly well-advanced child, apparently 
about thirteen or fourteen years of age. She was 
shabbily attired in a cheap cotton skirt, not a 
little soiled; a rough jacket, coarse dark stock- 
ings, and a pair of rusty, once black shoes, devoid 
of lacing or buttons, that seemed much too large 
for her. A boy’s torn straw hat, through which 
showed some tufts of her tawny hair, completed 
a wardrobe decidedly un — Parisian. 

The gentleman doffed his hat slightly as he 
asked: 

^Ts the boatman down below at his ferry?” 

The little miss looked at her interrogator with 
what he took to be a quizzical smile, then pursed 
her lips, and shook her head, accompanying the 
^ motion with the usual twice repeated vocal nega- 
tive common all over the West. 

^^No? Is he at home then?” 

Again the negative caput movement for answer, 
and the ^^Um-um,” responded. In the East the 
sound would haye been given but once, 


:d CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK 


11 


After pausing to see if more information were 
coming, the youth spoke again: 

^^Is there no one here then to take me across 

For reply the child sprang up as she said: 

^^You can bet there is. Daddy always has me to 
tend to the boat when he ain’t here — sometimes 
when he is.” As she finished speaking she slid 
down the turfy slope of the bluff to the footpath, 
and then came to his side with one spring; flash- 
ing a somewhat defiant glance up at him, as a re- 
joinder to his amused expression. Then she pat- 
ted his quadruped on the neck. 

^^Nice horse you got.” 

“Yes, he is a good animal,” he rejoined gravely, 
gathering up his reins. 

Without further expenditure of words, she led 
the way rapidly to the water. 

The road they traversed wound under the cliff 
until it came to an end in the turnpike that ran 
parallel to the river. As they rounded the rocky 
declivity which had masked their view of it, the 
ferry boat came in sight. 

What the rider now saw was what is still in 
places known as a rope ferry, once very familiar 
upon frontier streams, and occasionally yet to be 
encountered in the less populous sections, A 


12 


FOGG^S FERRY 


stout inch rope stretched from a sapling growing 
upon the side of the cliff above them, above the 
surface of the river, to a similar support on the 
further bank, a distance of probably three hun- 
dred yards. 

The two extremes of this rope commenced at 
an altitude of fully twenty-five feet, but in the 
center it nearly touched the water, resembling 
closely the main cables supporting a suspension 
bridge. The ferry itself was a flat-bottomed 
float, built of pine or hemlock, scarcely twenty 
feet in length, and meant to carry but one vehicle. 

It was secured to the cable by three ropes, with 
metal rings at the intersections, so as to easily 
glide along the large check and guide rope as the 
boat progressed. There was a long pole for pro- 
pulsion lying along the bottom of the craft. 

The girl sprang like a fawn into the boat, seized 
the pole, and pushed the float close up to the 
bank, so that the young man had no difficulty in 
getting his mare to step aboard. When fairly 
upon the boat he dismounted, and looked at his 
female Charon with a little curiosity. 

He noticed that she was very little, even for her 
age, and slimly, even slightly, built. He observed 
moreover, as he had done when she patted his 


A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK 


13 


horse, that she had a frank, courageous manner 
of meeting his gaze. He became aware now, in 
addition, that she possessed a pair of blue eyes, 
ivery light blonde hair, surprisingly delicate fea- 
tures in spite of the tanned and perhaps soiled 
appearance that neutralized this effect, and when 
she smiled he beheld the handsomest teeth he had 
ever seen in a white person. A vague thought 
passed through the youth^s mind that the elf be- 
fore him was an incongruity, a being unsuited to 
her surroundings. But he probably did not then 
realize that he entertained such idea. 

“Can you manage to push this heavy boat across 
the river unaided? You^re such a little creature.’’ 

She nodded confidently. 

“Do it lots o’ times. I am little, but” — she 
looked at him quizzically, and shook her head for 
a finish to the sentence. Then she threw down 
the pole, and added: “I don’t push; I pull.” 

With the words scarcely uttered she tripped to 
what should have been the bow of the boat, had 
it been so shaped, to seize the front guy rope, but 
here he interposed. 

“No, no, little lady,” he said, smilingly. “Let 
me be the ferryman this trip. You may keep an 
eye on my horse.” 


14 


FOGG'S FERRY 


^‘All right,” returned the girl indifferently. 
^^Reckon it won’t hurt you. It don’t me.” 

She sat upon the gunwale opposite him, and 
watched his proceedings, as he slowly and some- 
what awkwardly drew the unwieldy craft from 
the shore. 

^What is your name?” he asked, as he saw her 
observing him. 

^^What’s yours?” she answered promptly. 

He laughed. 

“You mean to give nothing for nothing, I see. 
My name is Gerald White.” 

“Mine’s Chip.” Then noticing his surprised 
look, the girl added: “Yes, it is — Chip Fogg.” 

“An odd name,” he said, looking at her thought- 
fully. 

“Well, it’s not for true my real name. That’s 
Sarah they say. But Mammy Fogg, when she’d 
get mad at Pop and me, used to call me Chip o’ the 
old un; meaning Daddy, and then Daddy would 
say, Wou’re my Chip.’ And once I told him Chip 
was nicer’n Sarah, which it is. Then he called 
me Chip right along, and then Mammy called me 
Chip, and now everybody calls me Chip.” 

Again came to him, as he looked at her frank, 
ingenuous face, a shadow of that incongruous im- 


A CHIP OP THE OLD BLOCK 


15 


pression^buthedid not realize yet exactly what he 
did think. 

‘‘How old are you?’^ — Then, as she turned, he 
added with a smile, “I^m nineteen — almost 
twenty.’’ 

“I am past thirteen. Popper says. Mammy 
never would tell me my birthday, and Daddy’s 
forgot.” 

“Your father, I suppose, is the ferryman, 
Fogg?” 

She nodded; then after a pause, she in turn be- 
came interrogator. 

“What are you, Gerald White? I mean, what 
do you do?” 

“I am a lawyer — that is I will be when I come of 
age. I am a student now — ” 

“Judge Norwood’s a lawyer,” the child said. 

He looked surprised. 

“Do you know him?” 

“Seen him — he comes here sometimes. No, I 
don’t exactly know hiin.” 

“Judge Norwood is my Mentor — a distant rela- 
tive. I mean that I study in his office. I expect 
to practice with him when he leaves the bench.” 

“He’s got a putty gal, ain’t he? I’ve heard so.” 

“Blanche? — yes, she’s rather pretty. I’ve seen 


16 


FOGCS FERRY 


some more to my taste.” Adding mentally, see 
one now.” 

The girl looked away with a slight blush. Per- 
haps she was woman enough to read his thoughts. 
After a silent moment — 

^^Going to marry her when she grows up?” she 
inquired, pertly. 

^Terhaps,” he returned, laughing. ^^That is a 
long way off, you know. Blanche can’t be much 
older than you. Chip, though ^he is a head taller. 
Do you know her?” 

^^Never saw her, only once.” She looked at him 
a moment as if thinking whether to say more, then 
added: ^^Don’t like her.” 

By this time they were nearing the opposite 
bank. Miss Fogg arose and took the horse by the 
bridle, patting its cheek softly. The animal in- 
clined his head as if gratified. 

“Nancy likes you,” said Mr. White, as he noticed 
the movement. Then, after a pause: “So do I.” 

“You don’t know me,” she replied. 

“I know you as well as Nancy does,” h.e said, 
looking at her with teasing eyes. 

“Oh, no,” she laughed, blushing, “horses and 
dogs is different, you know,” leading the mare 
towards the shore, as the boat had touched the 


A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK 


17 


bank. White held the craft in place while the 
girl stepped ashore and induced the steed to fol- 
low, which it did without hesitation. Then he too 
disembarked, and tendered the child a quarter. 
She shook her head. ♦ 

^We only charge ten cents, and I have no 
change.’’ 

‘^No more have I,” said the lad. Wou must 
keep what you have till we meet again. I mean to 
know more of you, if you will allow me.” 

^Well I reckon I won’t hinder. Mister, if Mam- 
my don’t fuss about it.” 

^^Oh, I hardly think she will object,” cried the 
young man lightly. 

^Won’t she? You don’t know her, Gerald 
White,” replied Chip, with grim emphasis on the 
pronoun. 

^‘No. But she shall not prevent our further ac- 
quaintance, I promise you.” 

The girl was silent. 

By this time he was again in the saddle, and 
Miss Chip slowly returned to the boat. 

Mr. White, however, did not at once resume his 
way, but looked thoughtfully across to the ferry- 
house. A heavy-set woman had come out upon 
the porch, and stood observing them. 


18 


FOGCS PERRY 


Chip noticed that Gerald White was what she 
considered a good-looking lad, with a frank, open 
countenance. To her he seemed finely dressed. 
As a matter of fact his attire was neat, somewhat 
worn, and by no means expensive. 

^‘Are you a gentleman, Gerald White?’’ she at 
length inquired, abruptly. 

He laughed heartily. 

^^That is not for me to say. I hope so. I want ■ 
to be.” 

^Well, I reckon you are.” 

“Thank you. Chip. You must try and be a lady 
as you grow up.” 

“How can I?” 

“We will see about that later. One can accom- 
plish a good deal if one wants to. I know a little 
lady that is no better than you, perhaps not as 
clever naturally, but she always looks neat and 
clean.” 

Chip surveyed her dress rather ruefully, but 
said nothing. 

“Her hair is always nicely brushed,” he went on. 

The girl had been swinging her hat in her hand, 
but at these words replaced it on her head, and 
brought it down to her ears. 


A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK 


19 


^^And she keeps her shoes carefully laced and 
polished.” 

Chip now whirled about so as to face the bluff, 
and in this position her pedals were partially re- 
moved from his sight. 

^^However, all these are but external trifles, eas- 
ily imitated. It’s the heart and head that make 
the lady. But I must go now, as Judge Norwood 
expects me. Good-bye, Miss Chip.” 

^^Good-bye,” answered the girl, without turning. 

He hesitated a moment, yet she did not move. 
Then he rode slowly down the pike, which was 
here a broad, well-kept, macadamized road. Just 
as a turn would have hidden her from his view he 
glanced back; but she still sat in the same place. 

Then he put his horse into a canter for about a 
mile. At a little rise he again paused. He was 
upon an open knoll, which once more allowed hiin 
a glimpse of the ferry. 

The girl had taken off her shoes and stockings, 
and was sitting with her feet in the water. 

Across, upon the bluff, the old woman was ges- 
ticulating violently at her, and seemed to be 
shouting. But the child paid no attention to the 
woman’s ejaculations. 


20 


FOGG’S FERRY 


^Toor little Chip/’ said the young man softly, 
afraid she’ll catch it.” 

Then he touched up his mare and galloped 
briskly forward. 


CHAPTEE 11. 


NORWOOD AND ITS INMATES. 

The long rest which the horseman had given his 
mare seemed to have put mettle into the animal, 
and Gerald White therefore overcame the few 
miles that intervened between him and Norwood, 
as the Judge’s plantation was called, very rap- 
idly. A portion of the way skirted a low reach of 
land, mostly a swamp from which exuded nothing 
more romantic than dank fumes and the croak- 
ings of frogs. But as he neared his destination 
the land changed character and became rolling 
and cultivated, most of the plantation being set 
in cotton. 

In perhaps twenty minutes he drew rein at a 
large farm gate from which a neatly hedged path 
led back to the stables. Leaning upon the gate 
was a queer-looking young man, probably about 
his own age, revealing prominently a shock of red 
hair, blinking bluish eyes that seemed destitute of 
lashes, and a lolling appearance that betokened 
a plentiful lack of energy. He wore only a hick- 
( 21 ) 


^2 


FOGCS PERRV 


ory shirt, jean trousers, and a straw hat, his pel'- 
son being innocent of both coat and vest. 

As White rode up, this individual seemed to un- 
limber himself slowly, raised the bar that held 
fast the gate, and swung it sufficiently open to ad- 
mit the horse and rider. 

^^So it’s you, Bill, is it?” said the rider, with a 
smile. 

A broad grin answered the salutation, but no 
words. 

^^Judge at home, I suppose?” 

Bill nodded. 

^^Still under the weather?” 

^^Better,” was the sententious rejoinder. 

^Wou are as loquacious as ever, I perceive,” said 
Gerald as he dismounted. 

The other lad grinned as before, but vouchsafed 
no other answer. 

^Tf you will take the mare to the stable. Bill, 
I’ll walk up to the house.” 

Bill without reply other than a good-humored 
smile, took the reins and led the mare up the grav- 
elled path. Mr. White took his way across the 
lawn, which was well shaded with chestnut trees. 
There was no shrubbery, however, except around 
the dwelling. 


NORWOOD AND ITS INMATES 


23 


The mansion stood back from the road about 
one hundred yards. Like most Southern resi- 
dences, it was encircled on three sides by a broad, 
covered veranda, scattered about which were a 
number of easy chairs. In one of these was seated 
a young girl, neatly clad in a summer suit, and 
with a book lying upon her lap. She looked up at 
the young man’s approach, but did not rise. Al- 
though a mere miss, there was an air of equanim- 
ity about the girl, amounting almost to supercil- 
iousness, that was remarkable in one so young. 

She greeted Gerald with a slight nod, but with- 
out a word or smile. 

^^Back once more. Miss Blanche,” he spoke. ‘T 
trust your father is himself again.” 

arphere’s nothing much the matter with him,” 
she replied. think you will find him in the sit- 
ting room.” 

^^And you? Have you given up school per- 
manently?” 

“No such good fortune. This is Friday, and 
they have merely allowed me to come home till 
Monday.” 

“And I see that you improve your mind even in 
vacation,” he said smilingly, glancing at her book. 

^‘Yes, with ^Beulah,’ ” she answered drily. “I 


24 


FOGCS FERRY 


think the hall door is locked, but Martha is wait- 
ing. Excuse my indolence.’^ 

There was something “old’^ about her manner 
of speaking, that he could not fail to note and 
wonder at. She seemed more woman than child. 

A tug at the door bell promptly brought Martha 
to answer the summons. She looked not unlike an 
elder sister of the stable boy. Bill. At any rate, 
like Mr. Still, she had a shock of very dull red 
hair, and rather watery unshaded eyes, which, 
however, lighted up somewhat at the sight of the 
young visitor. 

^^My stairs! Mr. White, is it you at last? The 
Jedge’ll be powerful glad to see you. Ef he asked 
me once, he’s called me fifty time — and for what 
do you s’pose?” 

But here the flow of her eloquence met with a 
rude check. 

“Martha.” It was Blanche who spoke, without 
looking towards her. “Don’t stand there and 
chatter so. Your voice goes through one like a 
file. If father wants to see Gerald so badly, why 
don’t you take him to the Judge at once?” 

The serving maid indulged in an indignant toss 
of the head, and then bestowing an expressive 


NORWOOD AND ITS INMATES 


25 


look upon Mr. White, threw the door open without 
a word. 

This the visitor closed as he entered, and then 
said to the girl : 

^^Never mind, Martha; now Til hear all you have 
to say.’’ 

‘T’ve said enough, Mr. Gerald. And I’m not 
given to wagging my tongue too free. I really 
ain’t, and you’d know it if you saw more of me. 
As for Miss Blanche, Mr. White, you take my ad- 
vice, and don’t you ever go for to fall in love with 
that high-stepping young lady.” She then pre- 
ceded him to the door of the sitting room, evi- 
dently still full of the subject, for she added as 
she turned to leave: 

^‘She’s just a little cat!” 

White, without comment, tapped upon the door, 
a voice invited him in, and he entered. 

A man of dignified and prepossessing appear- 
ance was seated at a table covered with writing 
material. A gentleman who looked to be some- 
what over forty years of age, who wore a becom- 
ing beard of blonde hue, sprinkled a little with 
tell-tale gray, and had on eye-glasses. 

“Yon truant,” he cried pleasantly, as he greeted 
his visitor, “1 have been expecting you these three 


26 


FOGG’S FERRY 


hours. This confinement makes me confoundedly 
impatient, you know.” 

^^Meacham kept me waiting for those entries, 
Judge, and Maury only let me have his brief this 
morning; and you know you wrote me to be sure 
and bring them.” 

^^Oh, well, Idl be back on the bench again on 
Monday. Thank God, the threatened pneumonia 
has passed away. I fear I make a very poor sick 
man, Gerald.” 

For more than an hour following the gentlemen 
entered into the details of business affairs with 
which we have no concern, principally questions 
by the elder and explanations by his student. 

arphere, that is over,” said the Judge at length, 
throwing down his pen. ^^You will of course re- 
main till morning, Gerald, and this evening 
Blanche shall let us hear some music. She has 
really a remarkable voice.” 

^T^m afraid I’m no favorite with Miss Blanche,” 
answered the younger man. ^^She has always a 
somewhat chilly manner of greeting me.” 

^Tt is her way,” rejoined the father. ^^She is 
only a child in years, and I fear a little willful. 
At any rate she is never truly cordial, I am afraid, 
qven with me,” 


MORtVOOb ANb IfS WMATbS 21 

There was a genuine ring of regret in the fa- 
therms voice. 

Mr. White did not speak for a time. He was 
looking thoughtfully out of the window. 

Judge/’ he said at last, ^^was your wife a very 
dark lady?” 

‘^Not at all,” was the answer. ‘‘She had light 
chestnut hair, and a fair complexion, very little 
darker than my own. What made you ask?” 

The young man started and flushed. 

“I — oh, I really hardly know. I was only think- 
ing that Blanche — ” Then he hesitated. 

“You were struck by Blanche’s black eyes and 
raven tresses, eh? I have often wondered at it 
myself. It is simply an inexplicable freak of na- 
ture, for the child is certainly my own flesh and 
bone.” 

“There can be no doubt of that, to be sure,” an- 
swered the younger man. After an interval of 
silence Gerald continued: 

“Have you ever met the little girl at the ferry? 
I mean the daughter of Fogg, the ferryman.” 

— stay, I believe I did meet the girl once 
upon the boat when crossing. But to tell the 
truth her face was so smeared that I certainly 


28 


FOGG'S FERRY 


would not recognize her if we encountered again. 
Now why did you ask that question?’’ 

It was a simple and natural query, and yet it 
seemed to embarrass White. He colored up, 
evaded the elder’s inquiring glance, and stam- 
mered as he said in return: 

^Why, she — she ferried me across the river to- 
day, and I thought — ” 

^Wes,” the Judge put in, as he hesitated. 

think she’s a remarkably strong child for one 
so — so small. That is all.” 

The Judge nodded, and added, a little quizzi- 
cally, ^^Oh, that is all, is it? If she ever officiates 
for me at the ferry. I’ll notice her muscle.” 

Gerald looked up at the speaker quickly, but 
the Judge was gazing off with an expression of in- 
tense innocence. 

often wonder. Judge,” the lad said, as if he 
wished to change the subject, “why you use white 
servants at your home here at Norwood, when you 
have so many darkies employed in the fields. It 
is quite unique in Tennessee.” 

“Perhaps that explains it,” rejoined the elder 
man, smiling. “I like to be odd. Besides Bill is a 
protege of mine. I have reared him from baby- 
hood, and Martha, while somewhat uncouth, is 


NORWOOD AND ITS INMATES 


29 


faithful, truthful and honest. To confess plainly, 
Gerald, I do not care to have colored people too 
close to me. I was not bred in Tennesse, you 
know, but in the far West, where negroes were 
scarce. You shall take me up the river, perhaps 
to-morrow, to see your ferry girl.” 

Mr. White looked at the speaker in surprise, but 
made no remark. 


CHAPTER HI. 


chip’s aspieations. 

When Gerald White rode away from the ferry, 
Miss Chip remained immovable until she knew he 
was out of sight. Then she sprang to her feet im- 
pulsively, and looked after him with something 
like a sigh. 

^^He knows a gal as always looks neat and pret- 
ty. My clothes aren’t neat, aren’t pretty, aren’t 
even clean. Neither am I neat, or clean, or pretty. 
That’s what he meant if he didn’t say it. I don’t 
reckon he liked me at all.” 

She held out a foot and looked at it with a grim 
expression. Then she viciously kicked off in suc- 
cession each shabby shoe; a proceeding not diffi- 
cult of accomplishment, for they were very large, 
and, seating herself on the low bulwark of the 
float, she removed her stockings and thrust her 
feet, which unlike their integuments, were excep- 
tionally small and well-formed, into the translu- 
cent water. 

They, the pedals, looked quite white and pretty 
under the surface, as even she could not fail to 

( 30 ) 


CHIFS ASPIRATIONS 


B1 


tiotice, and so the girl relaxed and smiled a little, 
and looked pleased. 

‘‘I reckon he’d have to say I’m clean anyhow, 
even if my clothes aren’t what they ought to be.” 

Pretty soon she heard a shrill voice shouting 
her name from the cliff across the water. But she 
sat unmoved, though the shouts could not help 
to be audible at an even greater distance. 

Tired at last of calling her, the voice changed 
to a curse and a menace, and then ceased. 

“Won’t I catch it when Mammy Fogg gets me!” 

This was said without looking towards the bluff. 
Her eyes were fixed furtively on a far away knoll 
where her cavalier had just appeared in sight. 

She knew very well that he had stopped and 
watched her, but slyly appeared to be gazing down 
into the water. 

“I like Mr. Gerald White,” she said reflectively, 
as she did so. “I allow he is a pretty nice man, 
for a gentleman.” 

She lifted her feet from the water as White re- 
sumed his way, and walked about the boat awhile 
to dry them. Then she once more donned her 
stockings and shoes, and started her craft back 
to the north of the river. 

!As the ferry-boat reached the shore, she en- 


32 


FOGCS FERRY 


countered an old man in shirt sleeves, vest, and a 
broad slouch hat of a past decade, awaiting her 
at the landing. He looked ruddy enough for a 
pilot, but very watery eyes and a rather thick 

f 

utterance indicated that his appearance was due 
at least as much to frequent potations as to ex- 
posure to the weather. 

He smiled at her grimly, and removed a pipe 
from his mouth to use in pointing significantly up 
the cliff. 

^^Is Mammy hot?’’ asked the child. 

^^Bilin’ — better not go up yet. Chip.” 

^^Oh, well, I don’t know, it’s got to come you 
know, and I might as well have it over now as 
some other time.” 

^^Oh, yes, it’s certain sure to come.” 

The man scratched his chin refiectively, and 
gazed at her sympathetically, but seemed to real- 
ize that the occasion was too solemn for more 
words. 

^^Daddy, what’s the good o’ my livin’ this way 
anyhow?” cried the girl, so suddenly as to startle 
her parent. ^^What am I good for? What’ll I ever 
come to? I’m getting to be nigh to a woman now, 
and what am I? Just a weed, a no good for noth- 


CHIFS ASPIRATIONS 


33 


ing weed, that’s what I am, and gettin’ no better 
nuther.” 

“Who’s been talking to yon. Chip?” he inquired 
suspiciously. 

“Nobody much. I’ve just been thinking.” 

“Well, but what kin you do? What d’ye want 
for to do?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. I just allow I’d like to learn 
to be something or somebody, like other gals. 
Like Blanche Norwood for one.” 

Mr. Fogg started, and gazed at his daughter in 
something like consternation. 

“Now who put her in your head? Blanche Nor- 
wood. Well me. Never met her, did you?” 

“Nobody. I’ve seen her, that’s all. She’s got 
some raisin’. She’s a lady. Beckon I could be 
one too, if I had the raisin’.” 

“She wears mighty good clothes. Chip.” 

“I know she does. I don’t ever ’spect to have 
dresses like her’s. Pop. But there’s ways to be a 
lady ’sides wearin’ good clothes, ain’t there?” 

He puffed his pipe a few moments reflectively. 

“I never thought of that,” quoth he at last. 
Then, after blinking afar off for a while, he turned 
to the child: “What could you do towards being a 
lady?” 


84 


FOGG'S FERRY 


might learn to read and write anyhow/’ she 
answered very slowly. “I reckon I couldn’t get to 
go to school, could I?” 

Mr. Fogg looked at her with a sort of awe, and 
shook his head. 

^There’s no school nigher’n Brownstown, my 
gal, and we couldn’t afford to keep you there, you 
know. It takes money to make ladies. Chip. 
That’s the trouble o’ the thing.” He blew out a 
long cloud of smoke, and then added what he evi- 
dently regarded as a clincher: “Your mammy’d 
never hear to it.” 

“I reckon not,” she assented. “But why can’t I 
get a book or two. Pop, like they use in school, and 
learn myself. That’s better than doin’ nothin’.” 

He nodded. 

“Much better. Chip. If any gal could, you 
could. You’re right smart; always was.” 

“You bet I’m smart. Daddy, will you get me a 
book?” 

He nodded. 

“Fust time I go down to the store. Chip.” 

“That’s every day. Pop; you know it and I know 
it. Let the apple jack go for once, and get me a 
book and a slate.” 

He nodded assent. 






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CHIFS ASPIRATIONS 


37 


^^And a pencil, too? You must get them to-mor- 
row, or to-night; yes, that^s better, to-night. 
You’re down there pretty nigh every evenin’, ain’t 
ye?” 

^Well, sometimes. Chip,” he admitted, reluc- 
tantly. Then he added: 

can start you on the letters, you know. I 
kin read a bit. I often read the papers.” 

^^Can you? We’ll open school to-morrow. Pop,” 
cried the child, clapping her hands in delight. 
Then, diving down into her pocket, she drew forth 
Gerald White’s coin. ^^There’s a quarter. Dad — 
that’ll be too much, won’t it?” 

^^I’m afeard not,” Mr. Fogg replied, as he took 
the silver, and gazed on it in some surprise. 
^^How’d you come by it. Chip?” 

‘^Dead honest. Daddy. You see^Gerald White-” 

‘^Gerald, Gerald White,” repeated the old man. 

^Wes; that’s his name. When a man’s name is 
Gerald, we call him Gerald, don’t we? He gave 
it to me for taking him and his horse across. Oh, 
I forgot.” 

He looked at her questioningly. 

^^There’s only ten cents owing us. We must give 
him the change.” 

^T’ll owe it,” answered the ferryman dryly. 


SB 


FOGG'S FBRRV 


‘^Maybe he’ll come back this way, and if he does 
we won’t make him pay next time.” 

^Well,” said the old man, ^^reckon I must git ter 
work. I must take the boat across right away. 
Dan Kellogg’s about cornin’ back with his team, 
as he drove up to Bridgeton this morning. You’d 
better get home and help mammy get supper.” 

^^Is mother there?” she asked. 

^^Scarcely. She went to the store for groceries 
and other truck, and I reckon she’s hardly back 
yet. Better be at work before she sees you.” 

They exchanged a significant grin. 

^^Keckon I had. Pop.” 

^^You know your ma. Chip.” 
both know ma. Dad.” 

She laughed and ran up the path, as he pushed 
the fioat from the bank. 

''Dad!” 

She was standing just where the path wound 
around the crag. 

He looked back and nodded. 

"You know what?” 

The old man grinned and nodded again. 

"I’m going to be a lady!” 

"And with a ringing laugh she darted out of 
sight. The father threw down his pole and seized 


CHIFS ASPIRATIONS 


89 


a guy rope, drawing the boat along steadily. The 
laughter died out of his face and a thoughtful 
expression stole over it. Once he paused in his 
work, and turned and gazed down the river at the 
knoll, whose mass of foliage concealed the dwell- 
ing of Judge Norwood. 

Perhaps he expected to see the little lady whom 
his daughter had cited, and who was for both the 
beau ideal of that to them somewhat mystical 
creation, a lady. 

But there was nothing visible from the float, 
save the tree-covered hill, and he at length re- 
sumed his labor. He had reached the center of 
the stream when he was startled by a shrill cry. 

“Hi, PopP 

Chip was standing on the very verge of the bluff, 
before the house, waving her hat at him. He an- 
swered the salutation with his hand. Then her 
voice rang out, clear and distinct: 

“A out and out. Simon-pure lady. Dad!’’ 

He nodded cheeringly, and the child danced 
gaily back to the house. The ferryman resumed 
his vocation, the boat moved slowly towards the 
opposite bluff, and the future lady took up her 
daily duties as kitchen maid, 


CHAPTER IV. 


ME. BRUGE RAWDON. 

How Chip’s anticipations of ^^catching it” upon 
meeting her affectionate maternal parent that 
evening were realized may be passed over with- 
out chronicling. Some subjects are too painful for 
description, and it is not the purpose of this ver- 
itable history to harrow its readers. Suffice it to 
say, that the supper was prepared and eaten, that 
Mr. Fogg found his presence at ^‘the store” that 
evening as much a necessity as usual, and that 
Chip failed to see him again that night. To be 
sure she attempted to await his return, but he 
must have been very late, and a day of consider- 
able exercise had brought its consequent fatigue 
upon the child. So she slumbered peacefully and 
sweetly until aroused next morning by Mother 
Fogg to assist in preparing breakfast. 

Nothing was said at the meal concerning the 
mighty project of the two conspirators. There 
were questioning glances on the girl’s part, and 
answering winks from the ferryman, both in- 
dulged in very stealthily. The repast over, Mr. 

( 40 ) 


MR. BRUCE RAWDON 


41 


Fogg ignited his pipe, and said carelessly as he 
sauntered out: 

^^Come down to the boat when you get time, 
Chip.’’ 

This was not an unusual request, and excited no 
suspicion in the guileless bosom of his better half. 

Chip displayed commendable energy in cleaning 
away the dishes, and was about to hie away to the 
rendezvous when the voice of authority put a tem- 
porary injunction upon her movements. 

^‘You needn’t go idling your time down on that 
’ere boat,” said her mother. ^^Let Zeb ’tend to his 
own business, and you stay here and mind the 
house. I’m going down to the store for something 
to eat.” 

Saying this, Mrs. Fogg proceeded to don a time 
honored sun bonnet, caught up a market basket of 
goodly dimensions, and started upon her errand. 
Chip’s disappointment was rendered somewhat 
/less poignant by noticing from the cliff that the 
ferry boat, conveying a country wagon, was well 
on its way to the opposite shore. 

The girl stood for a time at the point of the 
cliff, looking wistfully down the river; her eye 
resting, curiously enough, on the knoll where she 
had last seen Gerald White. 


42 


FOGG'S FERRY 


^^Eeckon he^ll be coming back pretty soon/^ she 
thought. Then she surveyed, with a look of any- 
thing but satisfaction, her shabby little frock, and 
untidy shoes. 

^^He knows a gal that always looks neat and 
clean, and keeps her hair nicely brushed. I don’t 
believe I’d look so awful bad if I was fixed up. My 
clothes are pretty dizzy though, for a fact.” 

With a sudden resolve, she darted back to the 
porch, where the usual utensils of a country toilet, 
water, coarse soap, and a towel still damp lay 
upon a bench. There were also a shoe brush and 
blacking. Seizing the brush she made an ener- 
getic onslaught upon her shoes, and succeeded in 
polishing them into a fairly presentable condition. 
Then she found a piece of ordinary twine and 
laced them up. This done, the young lady brushed 
her hair carefully with the shoe brush, which she 
had first dipped into the water, and finally tied it 
back with a bit of old ribbon. 

Her toilet completed, she surveyed herself in 
the cracked glass that hung on the wall of the 
cabin, with evident satisfaction. 

^There, now, I’ve polished my shoes and made 
my hair nice. If I only could polish myself as 
easy.” She laughed at first ^t the thought^ thep 


Mr. Bruce raWdoh 43 

became serious. ^‘This old dress won’t do for high 
society, I’m afraid.” 

There were several rents in it. She procured 
some pins and closed them as well as she could, 
but did not seem satisfied with the result, and 
pondered a moment. 

know what I’ll do,” she finally exclaimed. 
‘T’ll cover it up with my Sunday apron.” 

Dashing into the house she took a clean white 
apron from a bureau, and put it on over the dress, 
which it was large enough to almost entirely con- 
ceal. Then she dampened the towel, and rubbed 
her face so vigorously that her cheeks fairly 
burned. A clean white sun bonnet completed her 
costume, and as the girl stepped out upon the 
green she really appeared neat, clean, and quite 
pretty. A satisfied little nod, after a glance in 
the mirror, showed that she fully realized this. 

“Wouldn’t Mammy Fogg raise a ruction if she 
saw me? Oh, well, that’s nothing. I’m used to 
rackets. So’s Daddy.” She chuckled. “Poor 
Daddy. Him and me catch it all the time. Won- 
der what Mr. Gerald White would think of me 
now.” 

Again she turned her eyes down the river, but 
could see nothing. Then she noticed that the boat 


44 


FOGG’S FERRY 


was well on its way back, conveying a solitary 
foot passenger, and she hurried down the path to 
meet it. 

She arrived at the landing before the craft 
reached the shore. As it approached, she noticed 
that the newcomer was quite a young man,' and^ 
very elegantly dressed. 

‘^My heart, but he^s a gentleman sure,” was the 
girPs comment to herself. 

The young man had been busily talking to the 
ferryman, and therefore did not notice her until 
almost ready to land. As he turned and saw her 
he raised his hat and bowed. He then looked at 
Fogg, and she could hear him ask: 

^Whom have we here?” 

^‘Who, Chip — that’s my daughter. I’m her own 
father, I am.” 

^^Nice looking girl,” was his comment, as he sur- 
veyed Chip with a somewhat bold stare of admira- 
tion. Although the girl had had no ^^raisin’,” she 
possessed an instinctive modesty that rebelled 
against his glance, and made her gaze at him de- 
fiantly. 

Yet he was pleasant to look upon. A youth of 
probably not more than twenty years, with regu- 
lar, aristocratic features, dark hair and eyes, and 


MR. BRUCE RAW DON 


45 


ivery white teeth, which he had a habit of reveal- 
ing perhaps a little too often. 

As they touched the bank, Chip leaped into the 
boat, and seated herself on the gunwale. Mr. 
Fogg paused for his passenger to disembark, hold- 
ing the boat to the shore. But the latter seemed 
in no haste to leave. 

^^Introduce me to the young lady,’’ he said to 
the ferryman; and the child thought she detected 
a tinge of mockery in his tone. 

^^This is Mr. Bruce Rawdon, Chip,” said the fa- 
ther. 

Chip looked straight at the youth, and acknowl- 
edged his polite bow with a very slight inclination 
of the head. 

^‘I’m charmed to meet you,” the young man 
spoke, quite pleasantly. Although I’ve lived 
here all my life, and have known your father for 
years, I had no idea he had such a charming 
daughter.” 

‘^That’s all right,” replied the girl drily. ^^I’ve 
lived here all my life, too, but had no idea father 
had such stunnin’ friends. Reckon you’ll find 
plenty of things to do ’sides tryin’ to be friends 
with such gals as me.” 


46 


FOGG^S FERRY 


^That’s hardly kind. But you’ll get to know me 
better some time.” 

‘^Maybe I will and — and then — ” 

^^And like me better when you do.” 

^^Maybe,” she said curtly. 

Mr. Eawdon was too shrewd not to notice that 
the girl was not disposed to encourage him, and 
probably considered the occasion unfavorable for 
removing her first impression, for he now took his 
leave with the words, ^^See you again, Fogg.” 

The child watched his retreat with interest, and 
turned to her father as he disappeared. 

^Who is he. Pop?” 

^^Who? Bruce Kawdon? Oh, nobody much. 
His father owns the big plantation this side of 
Norwood. One of the richest men in this section, 
Chip.” 

^This man?” 

^^No, the father.” 

^^He’s a for true gentleman, I reckon. Dad.” 

^The old man?” 

“No, this man.” 

“Beckon he is. Chip.” 

“Well, he ain’t my style any how. But neyer 
mind him. Pop. Did you get me the book and 
slate?” 


MR, BRUCE RAWDON 


41 


For answer the old man took from the pocket of 
his coat, which was lying in one end of the float, a 
small package, neatly tied, which she eagerly tore 
open. It inclosed a copy of a flrst reader, pub- 
lished in the West, and in general use in that 
section. There was nothing except the book, how- 
ever. 

She turned the pages greedily, pausing at times 
to examine some of the numerous illustrations. 
The old man beamed upon her with an approving- 
smile. 

“Looks like a mighty nice book, Daddy.’^ 

He nodded, and she surveyed it at arm’s length, 
then added with a sigh: “If I only could but 
read!” 

“That’ll come, my girl; it’ll come, and come 
quick, too. Let me show you the letters.” 

He took the book from her, seated himself by 
her side, and proceeded to elucidate its mysteries, 
in a quaint but really lucid manner. It seemed 
like magic at the outset to the utterly untutored 
child, but she repeated the letters after him, and 
was so eager and apt, that she could actually re- 
member and pronounce every character contained 
in the lesson at its conclusion. 

“There, now, Chip,” said the old man approving- 


48 


FOGG'S FERRY 


ly. ^‘You^re gettin^ on slicker^n cotton-seed ile. 
You jist collar them a — b’s to-day, and to-morrow 
I’ll ’splain to you a little ’bout spellin’. Under- 
stand?” 

^^But the slate, Pop?” 

^^Couldn’t get it last night, my gal, and you 
won’t need it right off noways. We’ll have it in 
time. Reckon I’ll leave you now to tend the boat 
a while. You can study some while you’re waitin’ 
about you know.” 

^^But there’s no one at home. Daddy. Mammy 
left me to watch the house, but I moseyed away.” 

^Well, I’m going up that way, and if I see Sa- 
manthe. I’ll tell her I called you.” 

He took up his coat, threw it carelessly over his 
arm, and started up the path that led to the 
house. 

Left alone, the girl stood dreamily, with her 
eyes looking afar off into mere space. She was 
thinking, and she thought for a long interval. 
Finally with a sigh, she looked at the book, and 
then, as if the action had forced an idea upon her, 
she gazed earnestly at the far off knoll with which 
she now associated young Mr. White. 

There was nothing to be seen there, however, 
except the misty foliage, and so, after a moment’s 


MR. BRUCE RAW DON 


49 


thinking, she laid down her book upon a gunwale, 
took hold of a guide rope, and proceeded to draw 
the boat to the Southern shore. 

As she labored she shook her curls archly, and 
muttered softly: 

“If Gerald White comes back this morning he’ll 
find me on hand.’^ 


CHAPTER Y. 


THE KIVALS. 

Gerald White did come, and came with com- 
mendable i^romptitude. She could hear the click 
of his horse^s shoes upon the pike almost as soon 
as she landed. The young man’s face lit up with 
a pleased expression at sight of the girl, and he 
was not too oblivious to notice her now neat and 
tasteful appearance. 

‘‘Why, Miss Chip, you look ever so nice this 
morning. You’ve been metamorphosing yourself 
in some way, haven’t you? I mean you appear 
changed,” he added, as a concession to her look 
of inquiry. 

“Oh, just a little spring cleaning, that’s all. 
But I don’t reckon I look nice like Blanche Nor- 
wood, do I?” 

“Perhaps not. Which do you prefer. Chip — 
nice fresh bunch of violets, or a — well, say a holly 
hock?” 

She looked up hastily, as if she expected per- 
haps to see the flowers in his hand. But there 
was nothing there. 


( 50 ) 


THE RIVALS 


61 


Violets, I reckon,’’ she answered slowly. ^They 
smell sweeter, and I think are prettier.” 

“So do I. I always liked a violet.” 

The girl hardly understood his meaning; but 
somehow she refrained from seeking an elucida- 
tion. 

By this time he had entered the boat, dis- 
mounted, and had taken his station as propeller, 
while the child sat opposite, as on the previous 
day. He noticed at this juncture the book which 
she now held in her hand. 

“I’m taking lessons, you see,” she said in reply 
to his glance. 

“Who is your teacher?” he inquired somewhat 
eagerly. 

“Father.” 

He looked decidedly relieved at the answer. His 
manner plainly revealed as much. Yet why he 
should so feel he could hardly have explained. 
She did not put him to the test — did not even an- 
swer. 

“Can you read much?” 

“Me! Not the littlest weeny word. Why, I’ve 
only just learned the letters.” 

The young man looked thoughtfully away. For 
the first time he began to realize the really for- 


52 


FOGG'S FERRY 


lorn condition of the girl. Yet he saw that she 
herself seemed cheerful enough over it. After a 
time he again spoke: 

^That is bad, Chip. I can hardly understand 
your parents allowing you to grow up so very like 
a weed. Fortunately, it is not too late to remedy 
the blunder. You want to learn, don’t you?” 

''Urn, urn!” 

She nodded emphatically. 

^^Then you shall. I’ll help you.” 

She looked at him, but made no answer, and as 
he too became silent, nothing more was said till 
the float reached the northern side of the river. 

Leaving the rope he had been manipulating, Mr. 
White now took the book from the girl, and sat 
beside her, listening to the child while she re- 
peated the letters. Satisfied with the result of 
the examination, he commenced upon her first 
spelling lesson, not remitting the labor until she 
could correctly pronounce and spell quite a num- 
ber of monosyllables. 

In this manner more than an hour was con- 
sumed, and the lesson might have been prolonged 
still more had it not be^n cut short by a shrill 
voice from aboye, calling the girl’s name. 


THE RIVALS 


53 


^^Golly, mother wants me,” she cried, springing 
up. 

Mr. White also arose, and tendered her the fer- 
riage, which she refused. 

^^No, no, you paid yesterday, you know.” 

He did not urge her. 

‘^My time is not my own,” the lad said, as he 
mounted his horse, ^^so I can’t see you again until 
Sunday. I say. I’ll make a bargain. Chip, to come 
down here every Sunday, and review your week’s 
work, and help you to start afresh. Then, with 
your father’s assistance, you will get on all right. 
But you must study.” 

^Wou bet I will, and work hard, too.” 

^^And as you progress, you will learn to avoid 
slangy expressions. Wbu bet’ don’t sound very 
nicely from a young girl’s lips.” 

^Tt don’t?” She gazed at him in surprise. 
^Well, I reckon it makes it strong, and I didn’t 
know there was anything wrong in it, Gerald 
White.” 

“Nothing wrong. Chip Fogg,” answered Gerald, 
laughing. “But such expressions are not elegant, 
and you’re going to be a refined little lady, you 
know.” 


u 


POGG'S PERrV 


She thought of her own words to her fathei*, 
and exclaimed impetuously: 

^^You just bet I am/^ — then paused guiltily. 

^^Never mind the slip, Chip. Ladies are not 
made all at once I assure you.” 

There was another shrill shout of ‘‘Chip!” from 
above. 

“Mother’s piping hot, Mr. White. Reckon I’ll 
have to put off being a lady just now, and help ma 
get the dinner.” 

He nodded acquiescence, and she ran lightly up 
the path. White following on his horse. As she 
turned up towards the house he waved his hand 
towards her as a parting salute. She paused, 
glanced down at him a moment, and then shouted 
impressively, but not so loudly as to be audible 
above: 

“I’ll be a lady or bust!” 

Then she darted away and disappeared over the 
ridge, with a ringing little laugh at his astonished 
expression of countenance. 

Gerald White resumed his journey with a brisk- 
ness that betokened a consciousness of having lost 
time. He had gone but a little distance, however, 
when he encountered a young man wending his 
way to the ferry afoot, of an appearance much 


THE RIVALS 


55 


abo:Ee the average pedestrians of that section. He 
was handsomely, even jauntily, dressed, and, in 
Mr. White’s estimation possessed quite a patri- 
cian appearance. 

The two youths eyed each other narrowly as 
they passed, and exchanged rather curt nods. 
Gerald White rode on much more slowly. He ap- 
peared to have forgotten his haste, for he paused 
again on the same rise where he had halted the 
day before, and looked back. The stranger had 
evidently proceeded far enough to be aware that 
there was no one at the float, for he retraced his 
steps, and ascended the side path towards the 
cabin. 

It was certainly quite natural for him to do this, 
but somehow Mr. White felt annoyed at the ac- 
tion. For a moment he felt inclined to turn back 
and seek the house also, but realizing how ab- 
surd this would be, with an impatient ^Tshaw!” 
he put spurs to his horse and galloped off. On the 
next crest he paused again and looked down the 
rise, but could see nobody. 

don’t like that fellow,” he said as he resumed 
his road. wonder if he knows Chip. No, he is 
not my style.” 

.Wliich was a very unreasonable feeling. 


56 


FOGCS FERRY 


Meantime the other young man, who was our 
whilom friend Mr. Bruce Eawdon, reached the 
plateau, and came upon Mrs. Fogg, engaged in 
hanging out the family wash to dry near the 
porch. 

want some one to take me over the river,” he 
said to her. 

^‘Chip!” Without turning to look at him, she 
screamed towards the house. ^‘Passenger!” 

The girl came to the door, saw the gentleman 
awaiting the service, and answered his polite sal- 
ute with a curt nod. She disappeared indoors 
again without a word, and a moment later the 
ferryman emerged, yawning lazily. 

^‘Mornin’, Mr. Rawdon; was takin’ a nap, but ITl 
have you over in a jiffy, understand.” 

Chip had followed her father out, with her book 
in her hand. Raw’don approached her, and took 
the reader from her to glance at it. 

^^And are we not also to have your company 
again, Miss Fogg?” he inquired gallantly. 

She shook her head. 

^^Got my lesson to get.” 

^^But you can study on the boat even better than 
here.” 


“Yes, but Pd liefer be alone.” 


THE RIVALS 


57 


Mr. Rawdon was looking at her bright, ingenu- 
ous face with an unmistakable admiration. The 
ferryman had already disappeared over the slope 
that led to the water, but the youth lingered. 

^^Miss Chip, you’re too pretty a girl to be so coy 
with me. When you grow a little older, you’ll 
know better. You and I must be friends.” 

Before she was aware of his purpose, he had 
reached out and chucked her under the chin. Chip 
drew back indignantly. He face flushed, and her 
eyes flashed. 

‘^Don’t you do that again, Bruce Rawdon,” she 
exclaimed hotly. ‘^1 don’t like it!” 

He laughed, she thought sneeringly. 

^^And I don’t either like you,” she added with 
more warmth than grammar. At which his mer- 
riment increased. 

^^I’m going to make you like me,” the lad an- 
swered. “Who knows but we may be sweethearts 
in time.” 

Saying which, he followed the ferryman down 
the path to the water. The girl stood gazing after 
him like a statue of offended pride. 

“Chip’s right,” muttered the old woman, who 
had apparently taken no notice of this scene. 
“That boy’s got a bad eye.” 


68 


FOGG’S FERRY 


^^Mr. Kawdon/’ said Mr. Fogg, when they were 
well on their way across the river, “don’t you get 
too fresh with that little gal o’ mine. She don’t 
know nothing, and she ain’t got nothing; but she’s 
going to be a lady some day; understand?” 

Rawdon laughed somew^hat insolently. 

“What’ll make her one, Fogg? Being your 
daughter?” 

“She’s young and you’re young,” answered the 
old man, “and it’s hard to say what either of 
you’re coming to. But you mark: she’ll be a lady 
in time, just as much as you’ll be a gent.” He 
paused, and added in a tone his companion could 
not overhear, “And she’s got just as good a right, 
too, any day.” 

Rawdon did not reply, and the trip was finished 
in silence. 


CHAPTER VI. 


BRUCE RAWDON’S ENTERPRISE. 

Time went on quietly and monotonously at the 
Ferry, as time generally does progress in suburb- 
an districts. The green buds of spring burst into 
summer flowers and fruit. The fresh May breezes 
gave way to the warmer blasts of July and Au- 
gust. Crops ripened and invited the gleaner, and 
the cotton flelds were filled with black figures 
gathering up the flaky harvest. 

Chip pursued her studies pretty steadily, though 
there were intervals wherein her somewhat gypsy- 
like temperament asserted its mastery; and hours 
that should have been devoted to duties were 
often given over to long rambles upon the hills, or 
/to pedestrian excursions down the river shore. 

Gerald White redeemed faithfully his promise 
to assist her. Each Sunday afternoon with 
scarcely an exception, beheld him at the ferry- 
man’s house, where he was a welcome guest with 
the old man and the child. Mrs. Fogg was gener- 
ally grim and repellant; but she had little to say 
concerning the new order of things, except at 

( 59 ) 


60 


FOGCS FERRY 


times to her daughter when alone. On these oc- 
casions, to borrow the language of Chip, she some- 
times ‘^made things warm.’^ 

Bruce Kawdon, too, became a frequent visitor 
at the Cabin, and necessarily he and White met 
and came to know each other. These encounters 
did not seem to sweeten the impression their first 
meeting had engendered in Gerald, and truth to 
tell, there was no love lost on the part of Mr. 
Rawdon. Although each young man looked upon 
Chip as a child, and would have laughed to scorn 
any insinuation that their feeling for her partook 
of any T^armer nature than a paternal interest, 
still each youth instinctively felt the other to be 
a rival. The two young gentlemen also met occa- 
sionally at Judge Norwood's, where Rawdon was 
as intimate as so near a neighbor naturally would 
be. 

And so summer glided imperceptibly into au- 
tumn, which season in turn gave way to the mild 
winter of Southern Tennessee. The changes of 
the climate did not prevent or diminish Mr. 
White’s pedagogic calls, nor did they in the least 
operate as a bar to the visits of his rival. Chip 
Fogg seemed to have forgotten her first bitter 
feeling for the latter. If she did not encourage, 


BRUCE RAWDOWS ENTERPRISE 


61 


she certainly endured his company, and even 
would not disdain at times Mr. Eawdon’s proffered 
assistance in her studies. 

The latter progressed quite satisfactorily, but 
by no means wonderfully. Miss Fogg was not a 
marvel either of cleverness or of application. She 
was ambitious, and Gerald White was at pains 
to impress on the girl the importance of an edu- 
cation, and she in general gave time and labor 
towards its acquisition; though, as we have 
stated, this was intermittent. 

So Chip jogged along steadily if not rapidly, , 
upon her journey to young ladyhood. 

In the following spring, when Miss Fogg was 
nearing her sixteenth year, Gerald White was 
sent to Washington, the seat of government, by 
Judge Norwood. His business kept him there 
more than a month, and he took advtotage of the 
occasion to visit New York tod other eastern cit- 
ies. The summer had thus once more put in an 
appearance when he reappeared on the banks of 
the Tennessee. 

Poor Chip had felt his absence keenly, though 
she could hardly be said to be lonesome, as Bruce 
Rawdon became a regular caller several times a 
week. Her books came to be neglected at this 


62 


FOGG^S FERRY 


time, and she fell into a habit of climbing the 
hills, perching herself upon a rock, and sitting for 
hours at a stretch gazing musingly at the river. 
Whether by design or not, the child by this means 
evaded many of Mr. Eawdon’s visits. 

One very hot July afternoon, this latter young 
gentleman made his appearance at the cabin of 
the ferryman, arrayed in a faultless summer suit, 
with a handsome rose in his button-hole, and 
wearing a benevolent expression of face. 

He, however, changed it to a look of dissatisfac- 
tion and disappointment at the sight of Mother 
Fogg, seated on the steps of the porch, smoking a 
corn cob pipe, and seeming to gloat over his 
gloomy expression. 

^Where’s Chip?^’ he asked. 

^^Down at the ferry, I reckon.” 

^^She’s not there. I^ve just come across on the 
boat. Besides, you shouldn't allow her at the 
ferry so much. It makes her rough and uncouth.” 

Mrs. Fogg removed her pipe, and eyed him 
askance. 

^^Oh, it makes her uncut, does it? Won’t do for 
her ladyship to be mommoxed up with Fogg and 
the farmers, eh? Well, we’re nothin’ but common 


BRUCE RAWDON^S ENTERPRISE 


68 


every day po^ white trash, we are, and Chip she’s 
no better.” 

Wouldn’t you like, then, to see the girl grow 
to be a little lady. She’s naturally refined, and 
could easily be polished.” 

^^Lady? Ho! ho!” The woman fairly shook with 
merriment. ‘‘You kain’t make ladies for nothin’, 
kin you? How’re we going to make her any bet- 
ter’n the rest of us? Who’s to furnish the funds, 
young man, to give her the raisin’? Them things 
takes spons.” 

“There are ways. The enterprise might be 
taken out of your hands, you know. Suppose now 
I were to take charge of the child?” 

She turned and looked hard at him. 

“Oh I am in earnest,” he added. 

“Child! Much a child as you be. Chip’s nigh 
onto a young woman. She’ll be one by the time 
you’re a gentleman, I reckon. How kin you take 
charge of her? There’s only one square way, and 
you know it. Do you mean you’d be willin’ to 
marry her?” 

“I might.” 

“Yes, you might, if she’d hev you, I ’low. But 
would you, that’s what I want to know?” 

“It’s a little early to speak positively, but I do 


64 


FOGCS FERRY 


think seriously of making Chip my wife; — when 
we are both a little older. Now you can see why 
I am anxious to have the girl improve. You don’t 
want to stand in her light, do you?” 

“No,” answered the old woman dryly. “My 
shadder won’t de her no good, I reckon.” Then, 
after a pause, she added: “I don’t mind much 
what comes of her.” 

Saying this, she arose, laid her pipe on a shelf, 
and seized a large market basket. 

“Going away?” he asked. 

“Yes; got to run down to the store for something 
to eat.” 

“Very well. I’ll wait here for Chip.” 

“You’d better,” she rejoined, “and have it out, 
for you can’t tell how she’ll take to such arrange- 
in’.” 

“I have no fear of her, Mrs. Fogg. Girls of 
Chip’s age are not apt to have much mind on such 
subjects, and she will surely perceive how advan- 
tageous such an offer is to her.” 

“Will she? Reckon you’ll find as Chip’s got a 
bit o’ mind of her own, afore you’re through with 
her; and little she’d care for advantages if the 
notion didn’t suit her. ’Sides, she’s kinder stuck 
on that White feller.” 


BRUCE RAW DON'S ENTERPRISE 


65 


‘^Gerald White! Pshaw, what can he do for her? 
He hasn’t a cent beyond the little salary Judge 
Norwood allows him.” 

‘^Well, you’d better tell all that to the gal her- 
self. Then you’ll know where you stand.” She 
had started up the path at the back of the house. 
Rawdon wandered towards the verge of the cliff. 
As the old woman reached the crest of the rise 
behind the cabin, she paused and looked at him, 
saying to herself: “That boy’s got a bad eye, I tell 
you — if he is good looking. Nice husband he’d 
make for Chip. What’s the difference? She’s not 
much good here noways.” 

So saying, she proceeded on her way. 

Mr. Rawdon meantime glanced over the verge of 
the cliff, but from where he stood could not see the 
float, which was at the base of the crag. Next 
he looked down the path which led up from the 
ferry; after which he made certain that Mrs. Fogg 
had really gone. He seemed to have a purpose 
in all this espionage. 

“It certainly would be a charity to take Chip 
from this hag and her sot of a husband. If what 
I suspect can only be substantiated! There’s a 
romance here. The girl is certainly not their 
child. She does not bear the slightest resem- 


66 


FOGCS FERRY. 


blance to either of them. Whose, then, can she 

her 

He was now standing with one foot on the step 
which led into the house, gazing wistfully at the 
door, which was closed, but, as he knew, was not 
locked. 

^^If I only could discover something to confirm 
my suspicions — papers, or clothes, or trinkets! 
They always save such things. Why not? There’s 
no one about. Such an opportunity may not come 
to me again. I will investigate.” 

With a quick look around, to be certain he was 
unobserved, he crossed the little porch, opened the 
door, and entered the cabin. 

The room in which he found himself was in the 
centre of the building, and was evidently a com- 
bination of sitting room, dining room, and kitchen. 
On either side was a large and a small bed room, 
the former probably used by the old couple, and 
the latter by Chip. Besides the ordinary furni- 
ture of the dining room, there was a massive old- 
fashioned bureau, which at once attracted Mr. 
Rawdon’s attention. 

He tried the drawers, unsuccessfully. 

‘^Locked.” 

Then from his pockets he produced a buncli of 


I 



“ How’d ye come by it, Chip ? ** 



r 

r 


BRUCE RAWDON'S ENTERPRISE 


69 


not less than a dozen keys. It looked as if he had 
prepared for the emergency. 

The locks attached to the bureau drawers were 
i^^ery old fashioned, and such as almost any key of 
suitable size would work. He soon found one 
which opened the upper drawer. A quick search 
of this, however, revealed only domestic treasures 
of no interest to him. The second and third draw- 
ers, all of which opened to the same key, were 
rapidly investigated with like results. 

In the lower drawer, which he found more diffi- 
culty in forcing, as if it had been long in disuse, 
he was more fortunate. Still the same key per- 
formed the work. 

Besides a child’s trousseau, of handsome mate- 
rial and design, he found in one corner, rolled in a 
paper and strapped with a ribbon, a locket and 
chain. It flashed, even in the dim light of the 
room, as he held it up. 

^^Diamonds !” he exclaimed. He glanced around 
irresolutely. ^^This is something like theft. It 
might have an ugly look if I were called upon to 
explain my appropriating it.” 

He hesitated, moved irresolutely to the window, 
and saw that there was no one to observe him. 
The bauble lay open in his palm. Then he paused 


FOGG^S FERRY 


% 

and held up the locket again, surveying it as if in 
doubt. But he conquered this qualm quickly. 

a fool,” he said, and thrust it in his pocket. 
A rapid search of the drawer apprised him that 
there was nothing else of interest to him, portable 
or valuable, among its contents. Then he shut it, 
locked all the drawers, and sauntered once more 
out upon the cliff. 

He was still alone, he found, and material mat- 
ter about him remained unchanged. The sun 
shone as oppressively as it had done. The grass 
beneath him looked as parched as ever. The 
breeze still fanned his cheek gently; and yet to the 
young man there seemed a change. He felt un- 
comfortable. 

Up the hill behind the cabin he directed his 
gaze, to satisfy himself that the ferryman’s wife 
was not returning. He likewise made the same 
observation down the path that led up from the 
ferry. 

Then he leaned against a large flat stone that 
stood at the head of this path, drew out a hand- 
kerchief and wiped his brow, which had become 
quite clammy. So passed quite an interval. 

After a thoughtful pause, he at length took the 
locket from his pocket, and eyed it wistfully. 


BRUCE RAWDON^S ENTERPRISE 


71 


First throwing another careful glance around, he 
touched a spring and opened it. 

On either side was a portrait. One was that of 
a young man, to which he paid no attention. The 
other was an isory type of a very pretty girl, a 
blonde. 

^^What a lovely face!” he murmured; “and it ap- 
pears so familiar, too. Refined and spirituelle. A 
lady! As I live it looks like Chip! It must be the 
picture of her mother.” 

As if to screen his discovery from the world, he 
closed the locket hurriedly. Again the gleam of 
the gems attracted his attention. 

“This is very valuable,” he muttered. “What 
right have I to take it; and how could I explain 
my motive?” • 

He gazed at it wistfully, then with a sudden 
resolve thrust it back in his pocket, saying in 
quite an audible voice: 

“I^m a fool. There^s no one to see!” 

“Exceptin’ me!” came in clear tones from behind 
him, as startling to him as an unexpected gunshot 
might have been. 


CHAPTER VIL 


CHIP EEOEIVES A PROPOSAL. 

This had been one of Chip’s “off” days. Book 
in hand she had wandered down the banks of the 
Tennessee, until a shady sward under the 
branches of a gigantic beach tree had struck her 
fancy, and she had seated herself to study. But 
the heat of the day, the soft swirl of the riser’s 
current, the chirp of birds above and before her, 
and the hum of a stray bee nearby, proved som- 
nolent factors too strong to be combatted. The 
book soon dropped upon the grass beside her, and 
the young girl curled up at the base of the tree 
and fell fast asleep.^ 

This was long before Bruce Rawdon’s appear- 
ance at the cabin. But hours went by — Miss Fogg 
slumbered undisturbed until late in the after- 
noon, and at last awoke with an uneasy fear that 
the operation best known to her as “catching it” 
might be awaiting her at home. So she sprang up 
and fled incontinently in the direction of the ferry. 
When she arrived at the base of the cliff, she saWi 
(7a) 


CHIP RECEIVES A PROPOSAL 


78 


the float on the opposite side, and her father lying 
upon the bank, apparently also taking a nap. 

Stealthily, and with a guilty dread, she noise- 
lessly climbed the steep path to the house, and so 
came upon Bruce Rawdon in time to hear his last 
exclamation, and to laughingly put in: 

‘^Exceptin’ me!” 

The young man turned with his face all 
aflame. He seemed nervous, almost afraid of 
her; and she wondered at his emotion. She had 
not seen the locket, upon which his grasp had 
tightened like a flash. 

Two words broke from him as he wheeled about: 
^^The devil!” 

She laughed heartily. 

^Why, Mr. Rawdon. It’s only me — Chip; and 
Pm not so bad as that, I hope. Don’t look so 
black and blue at sight of me. I’m not so awful, 
though Mammy always says I’m a born pest.” 

He had walked away a few paces, as if to re- 
cover himself, and she sprang nimbly on the rock, 
seating herself upon one foot, as girl’s often 
do. With his back to her he slipped his prize into 
a pocket. 

^Wou were born for something much better than 
you are. Chip,” cried the young man impetuously. 


FOGG’S FERRY 


U 

as he returned to her side. ^^Something beyond 
and aboEe this rough ferry life. Something far 
different, far better than the wild, unkempt exist- 
ence you have heretofore led. How would you 
like to live in a grand mansion, with servants to do 
your bidding, to breathe the air of refinement, to 
wear beautiful clothes? Chip, how would you 
like to be a lady?” 

There was something so earnest, so impulsive in 
Rawdon’s manner; so foreign to his usual inso- 
lence, that she gazed at him in breathless aston- 
ishment. 

^Well, have you no words for my proposition? 
Doesn’t the offer please you?” he added, 
lady!” 

Her vision for more than a year. Her jest with 
her father, and her half-earnest pledge to Gerald 
White. And now there came suddenly to her the 
same — should she say dream? Only that now it 
began to appear tangible and real, for here was an 
offer, or it seemed so to her. For a moment she 
gazed at him in awe. Then the mischief in her dis- 
position asserted itself. Perhaps it was because 
the words had come from Bruce Rawdon, and not 
from another. ‘T^iady! Pretty lady I’d make. 


CHIP RECEIVES A PROPOSAL 


% 


Bruce Rawdon, with my old tow head, and no 
strings to my shoes.” 

Now this was merely figurative. For Chip^s 
shoes, while old and worn, were neatly laced, and 
her hair had been nicely brushed before she left 
home. 

Some such thought probably occupied her com- 
panion’s mind, as he drew closely beside her, and 
looked straight into her eyes. 

very pretty little lady you are even now. 
Miss Fogg. And as for the minor disadvantages 
due to your old life, they can be remedied. Your 
face — ” 

^^Is it very dirty? I mean for me. You don’t 
see any high water mark, do you?” and she point- 
ed to her neck. 

^A^our features are quite regular. Chip, such in 
truth as many an aristocratic lady would regard 
with envy. Your mouth is shapely, dainty and 
small.” 

Just at the words, her lips twisted into what 
she would have called ^^making a mouth.” 

“No one could desire whiter or prettier teeth.” 
He was bending over her, looking straight into her 
eyes. She answered his glance fearlessly, but in 
some wonderment. 


76 


FOGCS FERRY 


“Your eyes, your hair, are perfect. You have 
every requisite, my girl, to be what I suggest. All 
that is required is opportunity, and you shall have 
that. Let me unfold my plans for you.’’ (His 
arm stole about her waist at the words.) “In the 
first place. Chip, I want you to know that you 
have become very dear to me.” 

The girl had started at his embrace, the first 
endearment of any sort she had ever experienced. 
The next moment she struck the hand that em- 
braced her a sharp slap which compelled him to 
withdraw it, and cried: 

“See here. Unless you talk with your fingers, 
please keep your hands off. Bruce Rawdon, you’re 
too new! I won’t have any monkeying like that. 
I’m no fool. I’m not a lady. You don’t think that 
I am. But for all that, you’ve got to treat me as 
one!” 

Rawdon looked at the indignant child with a 
smile into which he attempted to infuse a tender 
cast, and thought that her indignation only made 
her prettier. 

“I’m afraid I haven’t made myself understood,” 
he rejoined. “I intend in time to make you my 
little wife.” 

“Is it all settled?” 

“In my heart, yes.” 


CHIP RECEIVES A PROPOSAL 


11 


^^Heart!” She laughed merrily. know the 
kind of heart you have. ’Tisn’t a heart. It’s a 
hotel — or an omnibus. Always room for one 
more.” 

‘^Don’t jest, child,” he exclaimed, with a show of 
real feeling. “I love you, I tell you. It is a feeling 
that took hold of me when we first met more than 
a year ago, and it has strengthened with time. 
There is no selfishness in my regard. Chip, for you 
know you have nothing but yourself to bring a 
husband. .We are both Eery young to think of 
marrying. But it will be sweet to be pledged; — 
to live with the thought that we are destined for 
each other. Won’t you promise to some day — not 
now; not in a year, perhaps — but some day to 
marry me?” 

He looked at her earnestly — she at him with an 
unfaltering glance, and shook her head most de- 
cisively. 

^ ^^Excuse me, Mr. Bruce Rawdon, but it cannot 
be. If I’m to have anything to say in the matter, 
it will have to be um-um.” Her favorite negative 
ended the sentence. 

He looked at her with mingled disappointment 
and rage, then turned away as if to overcome his 


78 


FOGG^S FERRY 


feelings. Returning to the girl, he resumed in a 
pleading tone. 

^^But, Chip, you don^t realize what it is I offer. 
I can make a real lady of you, with all the luxury 
and advantages of such a position. Think of the 
change from this wretched ferry life. I hm 
wealthy, or my father is.” 

^^Can’t help it,” rejoined the girl. ^^You can’t 
buy me, for all your money. I am not for sale. 
Mr. Bruce, as they say in the story papers, you 
are respectfully declined!” 

The young man’s temper at length asserted 
itself, and he exclaimed in angry tones: 

‘^Don’t fly too high. Chip. You’ll And that pride 
and poverty make very poor consorts.” 

^^Your pride, maybe,” she answered placidly. 
^^But I’ve learned that true pride is life’s ladder. 
We can’t climb without it! That’s Sunday school, 
that is,” she added sotto voce. 

“Your mother wants me,” he pleaded. 

“All right. She can have you. I don’t!” 

There was a pause, as if Rawdon hardly knew 
how to continue. Finally he resumed, in a very 
tender tone: 

“Perhaps I have been too abrupt. Chip. But 
I am impulsive, and am at least honest and unsel- 


CHIP RECEIVES A PROPOSAL 


79 


fish in my love for you. I won’t ask an answer to- 
day, dear. Think over my words and try and 
reconcile yourself to my offer. You can learn to 
like me.” 

Again she shook her head. 

‘T’m a slow scholar, Mr. Rawdon. Besides, I 
don’t want to learn anything of the kind. I don’t 
see why you don’t take my answer the way I mean 
it? You’ve got to! I’ve just as much right to my 
feelings as you have, if I haven’t got a rich fa- 
ther.” She paused, eyeing him a moment, as if 
gathering herself for the final sentence, and then 
cried: ‘^Oh, I wish you’d skip!” 

^^You don’t waste compliments!” he returned, 
bitterly. 

“I’m afraid they would be wasted on you,” she 
said, dryly. 

“I think I have the key to this conduct,” replied 
Rawdon, after quite a pause. “There’s another 
whose attentions might not displease you so much. 
If this fellow Gerald White had spoken such 
words to you — ” 

“Gerald White ask me to be his wife!” she in- 
terrupted; then burst into a merry peal of laugh- 
ter, and shook her head. “Reckon he’s got too 
much sense.” 


80 


FOGG’S FERRY 


^^But if he should?” the young man persisted. 

The girl arose to a kneeling position, with her 
hand extended and her finger pointed in the man- 
ner one uses in instructing a pet dog. Her mien 
was serious, though there was a gleam of mischief 
in her eye. Mr. Eawdon bent forward eagerly, 
for her answer. 

‘Tf that young gentleman came to me, and said 
to me, ^Chip Fogg, be my wife,’ I would say, ^Ger- 
ald’ — mean Mr. White; of course I’d call him Mr. 
White, you know; — I’d say — ” 

‘Wes,” said Rawdon, bending forward as she 
hesitated, and looking her straight in the eye. 

After a slight pause, she cried: 

“Wouldn’t I be a nice goose, now, to tell you?” 

The young man retorted sternly: “Gerald 
White had better be careful how he comes be- 
tween you and me. Your parents both want you 
to marry me, and as sure as we both live you 
shall!” 

“You keep off, or I’ll scratch!” 

“This is not child’s play,” he continued, unheed- 
ing the gesture which illustrated her words. “I 
shall bring your father up to talk to you. Don’t 
you think I’m not in earnest. Chip. I tell you, you 
shall be my wife !’^ 


CHIP RECEIVES A PROPOSAL 


81 


The girl made no answer. The playfulness had 
died out of her face, and she was regarding with 
awe his own countenance, which had become livid 
with rage. The next moment he had left her and 
taken the path to the ferry. 

She turned as he was disappearing, and called 
after him: 

“Bruce Rawdon! I think I’d rather be your 
widow!” 

But probably he did not hear the words. 


CHAPTER Vllt 


GEKALD WHITE HAS A CLIENT. 

Mr. Bruce Rawdon’s unsuccessful attempt to 
storm the heart of the ferryman s daughter took 
place upon the same day that the object of his 
jealous enmity, Gerald White, had returned from 
his lengthy Eastern yisit. The light-hearted exul- 
tation which marked the latter’s re-entree into 
Judge Norwood’s city-office would undoubtedly 
have given way to a restless anxiety had he know n 
what was taking place that afternoon at the cab- 
in. As it was, the youth’s errand of duty in first 
meeting the Judge and submitting the details of 
a lengthy report and volumes of documents relat- 
ing to the subject matter v/hich had involved his 
journey, was disturbed and distracted by thoughts 
of his little pupil at the ferry float, and by a rest- 
less desire to see her once more. He v/ould un- 
doubtedly have instituted inquiries about her be- 
fore entering upon the business of and with his 
preceptor, but for his knowledge that the child 
and the Judge were unacquainted. 

Mr. White’s proximity to Chip made him un- 
( 82 ) 


GERALD WHITE HAS A CLIENT 


83 


reasonably reposeless and curious concerning her, 
considering that during his three months’ absence 
he had never written either of or to her, and had 
never in any manner attempted to learn of her 
doings or progress. Albeit he had become used to 
and pleased with his association with the child 
when with her, he had borne her absence while 
far away with tranquil equanimity. But now it 
suddenly impressed itself upon him that he knew 
nothing, absolutely nothing of Chip since he had 
left the vicinity. She might be well — she might 
be absent — she might even be dead for aught he 
knew. And between him and the possibility of 
learning, lay long dull hours of business explana- 
tions with the Judge. 

But there was no help for it, and so Gerald 
plunged into his work with an energy that evoked 
compliments from his preceptor. His desire was 
to finish the details that afternoon, for he had 
planned a ride down to the ferry in the evening. 
But youth proposes only; age often makes the 
disposition. Much remained for explanation at 
the close of office hours, and consequently the 
Judge insisted on carrying White home with him. 
They did not go by way of the ferry, for the Judge 
preferred driving to riding, and took a more cir- 


84 


FOGG'S FERRY 


cuitous but much more level road, which involved 
the fording of the river below his house. 

The distance from the county seat where the 
Judge^s office was situated, to his domicile was 
above eight miles, and it was almost dark when 
they drove up the avenue which led to his home. 
There was no one present to receive them at the 
stable except Mr. Still, or as he was more gener- 
ally designated Still Bill, a title undoubtedly 
earned by his taciturnity. 

^^Blanche home?’’ inquired the Judge, as Bill 
took charge of his horses. 

The man nodded. 

^^And the children?” 

‘Tnside,” was the reply. 

‘^Children!” repeated Gerald in some wonder. 

“I forgot you had not heard. We have had addi- 
tions to our family recently. Two little orphan 
nieces were left destitute by my sister’s death in 
Nashville last month, so I have had them brought 
here. I presume I shall have to adopt them. It’s 
a great care, but I don’t think I shall regret it. 
They bring sunshine.” 

Mr. White made no comment, and they entered 
the house. The mansion was a typical Southern 
country seat, and contained a central hall, with a 


GERALD WHITE HAS A CLIENT 


85 


parlor situated to one side, and the handsome sit- 
ting room, which also served as the Judge’s of- 
fice, opposite. The door of the latter apartment 
was ajar and Blanche’s voice was heard calling to 
them: 

<< We’re all in here.” 

The Judge and his student followed her voice, 
entered the sitting room, and found the young 
lady sitting by the window, with a little girl 
kneeling beside her, and another child in her lap. 
They had been engaged in examining pictures. 
The older of the children did not seem over six or 
seven years of age, and her sister was apparently 
two or three years her junior. They were fair 
complected girls, with reddish blonde curls which 
contrasted pleasantly with Miss Norwood’s dark 
tresses, and Gerald thought the group formed a 
very pretty picture, and said so. 

^Thanks! So glad to see you back safely, Mr. 
White,” said Blanche, very placidly. ^Wou see I 
can’t rise to welcome you, as such a distinguished 
and long-absent guest deserves.” 

^^You are much better placed as you are,” re- 
turned the young man gallantly. lovely por- 
trait in a frame of innocence.” 

^Tnnocents ! These are my two little pests,” put 


86 


FOGG’S FERRY 


in the Judge, who then continued: ^^ChildreU, 
this is Mr. White. Gerald, allow me to present 
Miss Edna Murray, aged seven, and Miss Tennes- 
see, her sister, who has had five long years ex- 
perience of life.” 

Edna only stared at Gerald with very large 
eyes, and said nothing. But the younger child 
was more loquacious. 

is five years and two months old, and a week,” 
she cried with emphasis. Then after watching 
the effect of this stupendous statement upon Ger- 
ald, she graciously added: think you is nice.” 

“And I can discern that you are a young lady 
of taste and discernment,” replied White. “You 
know what^s what.” 

“I’s not a lady,” she protested. “Cousin Blanche 
is a lady. Does you like Cousin Blanche?” 

“Of course. Everybody likes Miss Blanche.” 

“Mr. White, after that I, too, think you is nice.” 
Blanche said this in such a frigid way that Ger- 
ald looked at her with an uncomfortable feeling 
that she was chaffing. She was certainly a pleas- 
ant girl to look upon, and the youth wondered that 
he had never been drawn to her. 

Blanche Norwood was now approaching her six- 
teenth year, but she seemed older. She was of 


GERALD WHITE HAS A CLIENT 


87 


tall stature and well rounded, and possessed a 
bold beauty not unmasculine, though her appear- 
ance was typically womanly. Gerald White had 
however, never admired the girl much, though he 
did not fail to acknowledge her comeliness; and 
now, more than ever before, he felt that there was 
a something about Blanche Norwood that re- 
pelled him. What occasioned the feeling he could 
hardly tell. She was not what he called ^^offish’^ 
with him, but there seemed ever a vein of mockery 
in her manner of speaking to him. She lacked 
sincerity, he thought. 

By this time Edna, the elder of the children, 
had found tongue. 

^^Mr. Rawdon’s a nice man. Cousin Blanche 
likes Mr. Rawdon a big heap.” 

Something of a blush suffused Miss Norwood's 
face at the expose. 

like everybody who is nice, Edna.” 

^^Mr. White?” queried Tennessee. 

‘^Mr. White especially; with a perfect mountain 
of esteem. You children like Mr. Rawdon, too, I 
know. In short, everybody likes Mr. Rawdon.” 

‘^He must be very lovable,” commented Gerald, 
with something of her own manner and voice. 

^^He gives us candy,” said Edna, 


88 


FOGG’S FERRY 


‘‘Sweets from the sweet/’ added Mr. White. “I 
see that you also know what is what. Why, we 
have here a small sugar trust.” 

Blanche eyed him sharply, but said nothing. 

The Judge, who had been fidgetting impatiently, 
now interrupted with a seasonable query: 

“Dinner ready, Blanche?” 

“It has been waiting for some time,” answered 
his daughter. 

“Let Martha take charge of the innocents at 
once, then,” said the father, after White had de- 
clined an invitation to go to his room. “I’m fam- 
ished.” 

Blanche touched a gong. The waiting woman 
answered the bell promptly, and grinned in a 
friendly manner at the sight of Gerald. 

“You can remain here with the girls, Martha,” 
Blanche said to her, “while we have dinner.” 

“We’s had our supper,” volunteered Tennessee, 
noticing Gerald’s sympathetic look. 

“They eats dinner in the middle of the day,” ex- 
plained Martha, “and takes their tea at sunset.” 

“I’m bothered about those children,” said the 
Judge at dinner. “They’re just of an age to be at 
school.” 


GERALD WHITE HAS A CLIENT 


89 


‘‘Edna certainly needs a little instruction,” 
added Blanche. 

“The trouble here is, that there is not a school 
near enough for them, and they are too young to 
be sent away to a boarding school.” 

“You had better, then, have a governess for 
them here at home,” suggested White. 

“I don’t like the idea of a stranger in the family. 
Besides it will be difficult to find a suitable person 
in this neighborhood, and to bring a teacher from 
Nashville would be too expensive.” 

A sudden thought struck Gerald. 

“I believe I’ve hit it,” he cried. 

“Hit what?” asked Judge Norwood. 

His daughter raised her brows, and eyed the 
young man, who was now quite eager, with mild 
curiosity. 

“I think I have hit upon the very person you 
want for the place. Do you know old Fogg, the 
ferryman above here on the road to Florence?” 

“Yes, very well,” answered the Judge. “That is 
I did, years ago. But I’ve seen very little of him 
for a long time.” 

“He has a daughter about your age, or perhaps 
a little younger,” said Gerald, glancing at 
Blanche. “She hasn’t had many advantages ’tis 


90 


FOGCS FERRY 


true, but she is naturally bright and clever, and I 
feel certain she would answer your purpose.’^ 
This last to the Judge. 

The elder man glanced inquiringly at his daugh- 
ter. 

‘T’ve seen her,’^ Blanche said, in her icy way, 
^^She seemed to me horridly rough and uncouth. 
She was even dirty.’^ 

^^You would not think so now,” argued White. 
^^She has improved wonderfully in the last year or 
two, and is now quite neat and — ” He was about 
to add pretty, but somehow he hesitated, and 
rather awkwardly substituted, ^^respectable.” 

^^Does she know anything?” inquired the young 
lady, noticing his hesitancy without appearing to. 

think she does — enough at least to qualify 
her to instruct such very little girls.” 

Where did she herself learn? And who taught 
her I wonder? There^s no school near the ferry, 
is there?” 

Mr. White felt his countenance coloring under 
Blanche's searching glance, and was vexed at him- 
self for what he considered a silly manifestation 
of weakness. But he answered in as unconcerned 
a manner as possible: 

think she has taught herself, mostly,” 


GERALD WHITE HAS A CLIENT 9l 

^^Ah! Then, of course, she must be a teacher.” 

There was a ring of sarcasm in the girPs voice 
that provoked White. But he controlled himself, 
and did not answer. 

think I^d better see this Miss Fogg,” put in 
the Judge. ^^She may be just the person for the 
emergency.” 

Won can judge better after you have met her,” 
Mr. White argued. ‘‘1 am certain you will like 
her.” 

^Wou evidently do,” was Blanche’s smiling com- 
ment, with emphasis on the pronoun. Then, after 
a pause, she went on with quite a different man- 
ner: ‘T^or my part, I don’t believe she would be a 
suitable, or even a fit companion for the girls.” 

‘T will see the young woman to-morrow, Ger- 
ald,” the Judge quietly said, ignoring his daugh- 
ter’s dictum. ^^The children certainly need some 
one.” Gerald felt as if he had achieved a triumph 
over Blanche, but did not look towards her. 


CHAPTER IX. 


MR. FOGG YIELDS A POINT. 

The next morning, after an early breakfast, 
Gerald and the Judge set out upon their return to 
their official duties. As it had been arranged to 
go by way of Fogg’s ferry, they took a light buck- 
board, drawn by a stout cob, a vehicle well ad- 
apted to the rough, hilly road they must encoun- 
ter after crossing the river. The first part of the 
journey, along the banks of the stream, was gen- 
erally level or gently rolling, over an excellent 
macadamized turnpike, and after little more than 
an hour of brisk trotting, they reached Mr. Fogg’s 
float, which they were fortunate enough to find 
upon the south side of the river. The ferryman 
himself was piloting the craft, and, very much 
to the younger itinerant’s disappointment, was 
alone. Without a word beyond the ordinary salu- 
tation of the day, they boarded the boat, and the 
voyage was commenced and continued in almost 
total silence. Fogg seemed to be rather morose 
for him, and scarcely noticed his passengers. 

The Judge looked thoughtful and preoccupied. 

( 92 ) 


MR, FOGG YIELDS A POINT 


93 


Mr. White was content with a brief inquiry ^^after 
the folks/’ and Zeb Fogg, who was in one of his 
taciturn ^^streaks,” merely returned the informa- 
tion that his family was ^^hunky.” 

‘^Gerald,” said the Judge, when they were fer- 
ried across the river. ‘^Stroll on ahead. I want to 
talk to Mr. Fogg.” 

^Wery well, then. I will run up to the house a 
moment,” answered White. 

Fogg seemed a little startled at the prospective 
interview, but made no remark, as the young- 
man stepped upon the bank, and started up the 
path to the cabin. 

To go back a little: When Bruce Rawdon left 
Chip upon the previous day, to seek her father, 
he found the old man composedly engaged with 
his pipe while awaiting patronage. Rawdon said 
nothing to him until they were well out in the 
river. Then he rather abruptly remarked: 

<^Fogg, I want to marry your girl. Chip.” 

“Better talk to her, then,” was the laconic reply. 

Unexpected as it was the proposal did not seem 
to take the old man by surprise. 

“I have. I asked her to be my wife awhile ago,” 
rejoined Rawdon. 

“What did she say?” 


94 


FOGG'S FERRY 


^^She said, 'No.’ ” 

"I thought so,” was the ferryman’s comment. 

"It is this; she’s too young to appreciate the 
advantages of the position I offered her,” Rawdon 
went on. 

"She’s too young to marry, that’s what,” an- 
swered the other. 

"At present, yes,” assented the young man. 
"But don’t forget that she’s almost a woman in 
years; and then you know I wouldn’t expect the 
marriage to take place for a year or two. I want 
her promise, and then intend to send her to 
school.” 

" ’Twould be a great thing for the child, that 
schoolin’,” murmured the old man to himself. 

"It’s the one chance of her life,” urged Rawdon 
eagerly. "And you as her father must see it. 
Now I want you to use your influence with the 
girl, and make her accept my offer.” 

"It’s not so easy to make Chip do anything.” 

"Pshaw, she’ll agree to whatever you ask, if you 
use a little flrmness. I mean that this will be to 
your own advantage, Fogg, as well as hers. Now 
then, can I count on you?” 

"I don’t reckon you kin,” answered the ferry- 


Mr. FOGG YIELDS A POINT 


9S 


man, taking his pipe from his month, and blowing 
a cloud of smoke in the air. 

^What!’^ 

‘‘I’m not goin’ to mommox myself up in any o’ 
Chip’s affairs, my friend. She may have had some 
other perpositions afore her, you know. I ’low 
she has, too. Understand?” 

“Yes, I understand. You mean that she’s been 
flirting with that cub, Gerald White; why, he’s 
only a penniless clerk for Judge Norwood — is not 
even a lawyer yet.” 

“Reckon he must suit Chip noway.” 

“She is too young for any serious feeling, and 
she’ll forget him if they are separated for a time. 
We’ll send her away to the school, and not let her 
hear from him, and mark, that will end the affair.” 

“You’ve settled the whole business, I reck- 
on,” commented Fogg. “I allow me and the old 
woman ain’t got no more to say ’bout the trick nor 
Chip herself.” 

“Mrs. Fogg has consented to do as I say. Chip 
will have to agree if her mother and you urge her. 
Now you must assist me in this matter.” 

“Must I?” 

“That is just the word : — Must.” 


96 


FOGG^S FERRY 


^^Then I s’pose a parent ain’t got nothin’ to say 
about disposin’ of his offspring.” 

“A parent should have all to say. But in this 
case, you will do as I ask.” 

^‘And if I don’t?” 

Rawdon glanced around as if afraid of being 
overheard, but they were still some distance from 
the shore, for Fogg had ceased to pull the boat 
while talking; and there was no one to be seen on 
either bank. Finally the young man spoke, slowly 
and meaningly: 

“If you don’t. I’ll be compelled to rake up an 
old, forgotten story; — an occurrence that made a 
great stir fifteen or more years ago will be 
brought to light.” 

If this were a chance shaft it certainly struck 
home. Th^ old man was palpably startled and agi- 
tated, and raised a hand as if in appeal. Then he 
gathered himself, and attempted a nonchalant 
manner. 

“Don’t understand.” 

“I think you do,” spoke Rawdon quietly, though 
he was keenly watching the effect of his words. 
“I am not much versed in the state laws, but your 
friend Mr. White will probably inform you that 
we have a statute against kidnapping, which 


MR, FOGG YIELDS A POINT 


97 


makes it a felony, punishable with imprisonment 
in the penitentiary.’^ 

Fogg was eyeing the speaker intently, and with 
some effort at appearing unconcerned. But the 
terror inspired by Rawdon’s words was too ap- 
parent to be disguised. After gazing speechlessly 
at the young man a moment, the ferryman turned 
away and leaned upon his guy rope, as if to rally 
from the shock. The boat swayed softly in the 
current without any forward impetus. 

After a pause, Fogg again spoke: 

reckon you know somethin’, Mr. Rawdon, or 
allow you do. That’s why you want to marry the 
gal.” 

want to marry Chip because I admire her and 
am learning to love her. Because she is bright 
and clever and pretty, and because she can be 
made a wife who will be a credit to me. But she 
needs a gentleman like me to take charge of her.” 

^^Chip’s cut out for a lady, for sure,” murmured 
the ferryman thoughtfully. ^^She’s always want- . 
ed to be a lady.” 

^^Chip is a lady, naturally, and I mean to make 
her one in fact. She has imbibed a romantic ad- 
miration for this young pettifogger which no sen- 
sible father would allow to stand in her way.” 


98 


FOGCS PMRy 


Fogg looked dreamily away awhile, then he 
turned, and answered in a firm, decided tone: 

^^Look here, Bruce Eawdon. I^m. either that 
gaPs daddy, or I ain’t. If I am, you kain’t make 
me go agin her wishes and for yourn. Ef I ain’t 
no kin to her — if she’s a little pick-me-up kidnap, 
as you insinervate — then I’ve got no say in the 
matter, and I kin wash my hands of the whole 
business.” 

^‘No, you cannot get out of it on that ground,” 
answered his companion. ^^You certainly stand 
in the place of a parent to her, and your authority 
as such is acknowledged by her and by the whole 
world. I will not mince words. You must be with 
me in this matter, or I will be against you. I can 
prove that Chip is not your child. I can show that 
you stole her when a babe. You know this to be 
true.” 

^‘What proof kin you show, I’d like to know?” 

^^I don’t doubt that you want to know what I 
know. In a bureau up at the house can be found 
the clothes the child wore when you took her from 
her home. They can be destroyed, I am aware. 
But the locket, with her mother’s picture in it, 
cannot; for it is no longer in your possession.” 

The old man looked at Rawdon in such an ec- 


MR. POGG YIELDS A POINT 


99 


Stacy of consternation and fear, that the latter 
was almost inclined to laugh. 

^‘Have you taken the locket?’^ he gasped. 

^^Do you want me to criminate myself, Fogg? I 
only say that the trinket which will prove who 
Chip Fogg really is can be produced if necessary, 
and that it is now beyond your control.” 

‘Who she really is? Well, if she ben^t Chip 
Fogg, tell me who is she?” 

“You tell me, and I then will tell you,” replied 
the younger man. “You ought to know.” 

“I don’t know,” replied the ferryman in a low 
tone. “I didn’t ^teal the kid, nuther, that’s what. 
The man as did the job, and the man as knows all 
about her, has not been seen about these here 
parts for years. Most likely he’s dead and gone 
long ago, understand.” 

“Then I’m wiser than you, Fogg,” observed 
Rawdon, airily. “But never mind; now to busi- 
ness: You’re under my thumb, old man, and you 
know it. Will you stand by me in this business, or 
must I squeal?” 

To this home question Fogg took quite a time 
for reflection before he answered: 

“You needn’t do anything agin me or the old 
woman, and we’ll try all we can to help you; un- 
derstand?” 


LofC. 


100 


FOGG'S FERRY 


«yery well. I’ll be back here to-morrow, and 
you must then give Chip to understand that she 
is to conform to our wishes. Tell her plainly she 
must look upon me as her future husband.” 

Fogg turned to his work without another re- 
mark, the boat moved briskly on under his manip- 
ulation, and soon touched the southern shore of 
the stream, where Rawdon sprang out. 

“You’ll find you have been wise, Zeb Fogg, in 
not making an enemy of me,” was his peroration. 
“I could have ruined you. Now you can count on 
me as a friend, and one worth having.” 

With these words he started down the pike 
jauntily, whistling softly a popular air. 

The old man gazed after him with a gloomy ex- 
pression of countenance. 

“I wish I wasn’t such a cur,” he muttered to 
himself. “I hope Chip’s got more spunk’n her old 
dad. Bet my boots she has though. Ef she 
ain’t — ” he paused for a moment, as if for a suit- 
able expression — “ef she ain’t, she’s a gone coon, 
sure.” 

Then he sat down to wait for another passenger, 
and after an interval of reflection brought forth 
an old pipe, and proceeded to indulge in his usual 
luxury, a smoke. 


CHAPTER X. 


MR. WHITE INTERVIEWS HIS CLIENT. 

As soon as he was out of sight of the two elders, 
Gerald White darted up the path to the house 
with light and nimble steps, and reached the sum- 
mit in very brief order. As he arrived at the crest 
of the hill, he was in time to witness and become a 
participant in a, to him, somewhat singular tab- 
leau. 

Although Chip was not aware of his return from 
the East, the girl, when not in the boat, was often 
in the habit of watching the ferry from the cliff. 
This morning while so engaged she had seen the 
arrival of the two horsemen on the other side of 
the river. 

Her recognition of Gerald and consequent de- 
light was of course instantaneous. The gray- 
bearded gentleman with him she had never seen 
before, but she divined that this must be the 
Judge, and shrewdly suspected that she herself 
was in some way connected with their visit. 

“I must fix up before Gerald sees me,” she ob- 


( 101 ) 


162 


FOCG^S FBRRV 


served to herself with a smile. ^^He likes to seo 
me look nice. I’ll get out my Sunday duds.” 

Bent upon this errand, she flew back to the 
house, which, fortunately for her, was without its 
usual occupant. Mrs. Fogg had started upon her 
regular matutinal trip to ^^the store” an hour or 
more before and had notyet returned. Chip’s toilet 
consisted, as on a former occasion, of polishing 
her shoes, brushing her hair, which did not need 
the attention, as the girl’s habits were now quite 
neat, and of donning her “Sunday” apron and hat. 
She omitted this time the ablution to her face, as 
it was not requisite. A glance in the glass upon 
the porch satisfied her that it was a very good 
face as it was. 

Her dressing completed, she ran down to the 
verge of the crag again, and looked for the float 
once more. It was almost across the river, and 
partially hidden from her view. 

“He’ll be here in a minute,” she thought, “and 
must find me studying. Mr. White likes me to 
study.” Acting upon the idea. Chip hurried back 
to the house, picked up a grammar, into which she 
had lately commenced to delve, and returned 
quickly to the rock which stood at the head of the 
ferry path, and which often served the girl as a 


MR. WHITE INTERVIEWS HIS CLIENT 103 


seat or a lounge. It was here that Bruce Rawdon 
had made her the offer on the previous day. 

She stood, then, beside the rock and spread out 
the open book before her, but did not at once look 
upon its pages. Her eyes were fixed dreamily on 
space, and she was thinking. 

^^He hasn^t seen me for ever so long. Wonder 
what he’ll think of me now. Maybe he’s met some 
fine lady way off from here, and don’t think of me 
at all. I like Mr. White, becauce — well, because 
he’s nice. He never tried to put his arm around 
like old Rawdon.” Here she grinned. ^^Don’t 
reckon it would make me very mad if he did. 
Well, before he sees me, I allow I’d better get to 
w^ork.” 

She bent over the book, which she had opened 
at random, and read aloud: 

Wour’ is a personal pronoun, denoting posses- 
sion, as your horse, your house — ” 

“Your laziness,” rang suddenly in her ears from 
behind. 

The next moment she was seized by the shoul- 
ders, and dashed rudely to the sward. 

She looked up, in mingled fright and astonish- 
ment at the assault, and saw her mother standing 
pyer her with an upraised cane in her hand^ and 


104 


FOGCS FERRY 


an expression of diabolical rage in her eyes and 
whole countenance. 

Truth to tell, the old woman had not brought 
all her purchases back in her market basket. Like 
her husband she was given to potations, and a 
cargo of apple jack, such as she now carried, had 
the not infrequent effect of irritating a somewhat 
unamiable temper. 

Arrived at home, the first object to attract her 
attention was her little daughter engaged in what 
she termed ^fidling.’’ The sight filled her with 
anger, and, seizing an old cane of Fogg’s, she crept 
silently behind the girl, with the result we have 
chronicled. 

^T)h, Mammy, don’t,” cried the daughter, really 
terrified at the flaming face and uplifted club 
above her. ^A^ou’ll kill me.” 

‘‘What ef I did? You’d be no loss, would ye? 
You’re no fetch-taked good on airth, that I kin see, 
moodlin’ round here with your grammars and 
slates. Am I to work and slave, and cart the 
grub, while you pronoun among them books? 
Dog’d ef I don’t knock some sense into you.” 

And the uplifted arm bore evidence that the 
threat was no idle one. 






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Mr. white interviews his client lOl 


This was the living picture which met Gerald 
Whitens gaze as he reached the top of the rock. 

The next moment there was a determined grip 
fastened vise-like on the old woman’s wrist, the 
stick was twisted out of her grasp and cast to one 
side, and a firm, manly voice was heard exclaim- 
ing: 

‘^This won’t do, old lady — you shall not strike 
the girl while she’s down.” 

‘^No; never hit a man when she’s down,” echoed 
Chip, as she sprang nimbly by her mother, and 
sought refuge behind the young man. The old 
woman turned after her with a muttered curse, 
but paused on facing Gerald, who wore a resolute 
expression that cowed her. 

^^What makes her so aggravatin’, nohow?” 
whined Mrs. Fogg, after a moment’s hesitation. 
^Why don’t she show some thankness for all we 
does for her? Why don’t she work, instead of 
foolin’ her time away on them books?” 

^^We look at things from different standpoints,” 
he answered, taking the questions to himself. 
^^Study is often a very arduous sort of work, and 
knowledge is not folly but wisdom. Perhaps she 
does not know how to do better. Have you ever 


108 


FOGG'S FERRY 


tried to teach her anything? The girl is naturally 
clexer.” 

am clever,” put in Chip, with emphasis. 
smarter than I give myself credit for.” 

Mrs. Fogg, with a fierce grunt that covered and 
muffled an imprecation, once more turned on the' 
girl, but White again interposed, and she con- 
tented herself with muttering: 

‘^Keckon I kin thump her if I want to.” 

‘Wou shall not while I am by,” returned the lad. 
Then, in answer to a savage look, he added: “I 
don’t fear you in the least.” 

^^Neither do I, now,” supplemented Chip, peep- 
ing around her protector at her mother somewhat 
gingerly. The elder woman rushed at her, com- 
pelling Chip to circle around Gerald very rapidly. 
Pausing, somewhat out of breath, mother Fogg 
growled : 

^Wou’d better tread kearful, young man, ef you 
are a liar. Other people knows their rights some- 
times, and nobody can’t touch a mother for lickin’ 
her own child.” 

Gerald looked at the rage-distorted face, con- 
trasting so markedly with Chip’s pretty features, 
and yielding to an impulse of the moment, re- 
sponded: 


MR, WHITE INTERVIEWS HIS CLIENT 109 


^^No. Nobody has a right to interfere between 
parent and child. But for all that, don^t you dare 
to touch this girl.’’ 

It was a chance and somewhat thoughtless ex- 
f pression, and the young man was surprised to no- 
tice its effect. Mrs. Fogg seemed startled and 
even frightened, and turned away, saying to her- 
self: 

^What does he mean? Does he know any- 
thing?” 

Like a flash came into Gerald White’s mind a 
suspicion of the same nature as that previously 
entertained by Rawdon. He looked from the old- 
er woman to the girl, but the latter was evidently 
innocent of any knowledge or even thought of 
such a state of affairs. 

Mrs. Fogg slowly picked up her cane, and then 
turned with quite a suave expression, saying: 

^^Reckon you’re right, young man. My aggrava- 
tions makes me too hot sometimes. Now as I 
think of it cool, I’ll never thump Chip no more. 
She’s a good gal, and I feel for her full o’ the milk 
of human kindness.” 

^Wes — buttermilk,” interjected Chip pertly. 

Her mother glared in a way to contradict her 
pacific words, but mindful of the girl’s guardian. 


no 


FOGG^S FERRY 


she started towards the house. At the porch she 
turned and cried: 

^^Don’t stay out too long, precious. Time to set 
the table for dinner. Like to have you stay and 
have you take pot luck, Mr. White, and don’t mind 
me. When I’m not aggravated, I’m sweet. That’s 
what I am — sweet.” 

Then she rolled into the house. 

‘^Sweet as a green persimmon,” was her daugh- 
ter’s dutiful comment. 

White walked up to the porch, took a couple of 
chairs which were there, and brought them to 
the edge of the cliff, a position which gave a su- 
perb view of the river. 

^^Come and sit down,” he said to the girl. 

Chip backed up against the rock and looked 
doubtful. 

— side of you?” 

‘‘Certainly,” he answered, smiling. “I don’t 
bite.” 

“But I’m not a bit tired, Mr. White; I don’t 
care to sit down.” 

“But I desire you to; I want to talk to you. It 
would be positively rude and unladylike to stand 
off there and compel me to shout.” 


MR. WHITE INTERVIEWS HIS CLIENT 111 

well,” she responded, it’s unladylike to 
stand, reckon I’d better sit.” 

She approached him slowly and coyly, drew her 
chair a little way from his, and sat down demure- 
ly. Mr. White edged up his chair a little closer, 
and as Chip attempted to slide hers away, he 
quietly held it. Then they looked at each other 
and laughed. 

^^Now what did you want for to say?” she in- 
quired. 

have not seen you in a very long time, and I 
want first to compliment you on your appearance. 
You are no longer the little elf who took me across 
the ferry, but have become quite a little woman. 
I hope you have progressed favorably in your 
studies since I last saw you.” 

am through my second reader, and I can write 
a little, but not good.” 

^Well,” he suggested. 

^Well, well — not very well. And I am trying to 
learn grammar, but that’s pretty hard.” 

^Without a teacher almost impossible.” 

^^Bruce Rawdon helps me sometimes, but he 
can’t teach so good — so well as you.” 

‘‘Bruce Rawdon! Does he come here often?” 

“He did. He was here yesterday. And we had 


112 


FOGCS FERRY 


a regular scrimmage, and — and maybe he won’t 
come any more.” 

Gerald White looked at her. She turned away. 
A frown gathered over the young man’s face, 

^^What do you mean, Chip?” 

^^Oh, well,” she answered hesitatingly, ‘^he tried 
to be soft, but I made him see it wouldn’t wash.” 

He held up a finger reprovingly. 

^^Haven’t you forgotten what I said about 
slang?” 

“No, but when I get mad that slang sticks to 
my lips like the bottle does to Daddy’s. But no 
more. I swear off. That’s biz, you bet.” 

He laughed, and she looked at him in a shame- 
faced way. 

“So Bruce Rawdon tried to make loye to you?” 

She nodded. 

“Confound his assurance — a child like you! I 
wonder if you even know what love is?” 

“Oh, pshaw,” and the girl hung her head, and 
looked away. 

“Do you?” 

She nodded slowly. 

“And you don’t feel any for Rawdon?” 

She shook her head determinedly. 

“For any one?” he asked, after a pause. 

She did not reply. 


MR, WHITE INTERVIEWS HIS CLIENT 113 


^‘1 ask, do you feel any love for anybody, little 
girl ? I mean aside from your parents.’’ 

Still no response. 

^‘Tell me frankly, and I will do the same.” 

‘^All right. You tell me.” 

‘^Certainly. But you must speak first.” 

‘^Me tell you?” answered the girl, with spirit, 
won’t. I’d die first. Beckon I’ve got some 
sense if I’m not a lady.” 

White laughed, not displeased with her words 
or manner. 

^A^ou are right. Chip. A lady should never 
speak first on that subject. But at least give me 
your definition of love.” 

The girl paused and looked up thoughtfully. 
Then she said slowly: 

“I allow love must be a kind o’ doll, that a girl 
nurses when she gets too big for sawdusi: babies.” 

Gerald laughed heartily at this, to him, whim- 
sical description of the grand passion. But Chip 
appeared serious. 

^‘1 know one thing,” she went on. ^Tt can’t be 
bought anyway. Mr. Rawdon tried to catch me 
with his money, but I soon made him understand 
it wouldn’t wash.” 

''Slang!” 


114 


FOGG^S PERRY 


^^That slipped out before I thought, Mr. White. 
Isn’t love a sort o’ hankering?” 

^Wes. If we love anything or anybody, I think 
we always want to possess the object.” 

‘^I love fine clothes,” reflected the girl. ^^Oh, 
how I’d like to wear a great train, like a for true 
lady.” 

‘Wou can be a lady. Chip. You will be one, but 
not until you overcome that slang.” 

^^Gerald White, what are you giving me?” She 
checked herself. ^‘I mean you’re poking fun at 
me. Me a lady!” 

^^I never was more in earnest.” 

‘What! — me be a lady and wear long-tail dress- 
es and bustles bigger than pumpkins? It’s what 
I’ve longed for — dreamed of — but it can never, 
never be.” 

There was a look of pathetic longing in the girl’s 
eye that awoke a tender sympathy in the young 
man’s breast. 

“Why can it never be? You have everything in 
you to make a lady that any man might be proud 
of. You need only opportunity, and that I mean 
you shall not want much longer.” 

“You are ever so kind and good to me, Gerald 


MR. WHITE INTERVIEWS HIS CLIENT 115 

White, and for my life I cannot see why. But 
now let us talk of something else — something 
pleasant.’’ 

know of no more pleasant subject than you, 
Chip,” answered White, looking with admiration 
into the girl’s animated face. 

^^But I’m tired of myself.” 

^^Do you want to dispose of yourself?” Gerald • 
inquired tenderly. ^‘Would you be willing to ex- 
change? Take, say, me for you?” Perhaps uncon- 
sciously his arm stole partially around her waist. 

She colored, and hung her head. It was a new 
sensation; and the girl, though artless and fear- 
less, was modest. 

^‘I couldn’t think of giving you such a bad bar- 
gain. Now, if Bruce Kawdon had put it in that 
way — ” 

^^Don’t mention that fellow’s name,” interrupt- 
ed White, impetuously. ^Tt makes me double my 
ifists to think of the rascal’s presumption.” 

And with the .words he clasped her more ener- 
getically with the arm that encircled her waist. 
Chip eyed his hand in some wonder, but seemed 
more amused than displeased. 

‘^Gerald White,” she answered demurely,^^ have- 
n’t you a strange way of doubling your fists?” 


116 


FOGG^S FERRY 


The young man withdrew his arm, and seemed a 
little confused and penitent. 

“I beg your pardon, Miss Fogg. I did not realize 
what I was doing. But let us drop Mr. Rawdon. 

I want to tell you something about myself, about 
a feeling that has crept into my heart — a little 
love for a little lady who has been growing very 
dear to me. I have hardly realized it myself so 
far, for it has stolen into my heart like a sly mite 
of a mouse.” 

“Your love?” 

“Yes, my love.” 

“For yourself?” 

“For somebody. It has, as I say, been only a 
little fellow at first, but it will grow bigger and 
stronger as somebody improves. Can you guess 
who my somebody is?” 

“I am afraid I can’t. I reckon I’m not acquaint- 
ed with him.” 

“Ah, but you are. You see somebody’s reflection 
every time you look in your mirror.” 

She hung her head bashfully, as she answered: 

“Why, Mr. White, how can you talk so? I am 
only a girl.” 

“That is all,” assented Gerald dryly. “If you 
were a boy you would not be, ^somebody’.” 


MR, WHITE INTERVIEWS HIS CLIENT 117 


^^But I’m getting older fast. Yesterday I was 
only fifteen, and to-day I am sixteen.” 

^Then this is your birthday?” 

“Yes. I was born to-day. Do you ever dream?” 

He looked surprised as he replied: 

“I presume we all do at times.” 

“I allow I often do, even when I’m not asleep, 
Sometimes I have lain out on the point here in 
the moonlight, and noticed pictures in the sky just 
like dreams. I would see myself climbing a green 
hill with the sunlight laid over the top like a coat- 
ing of gold. And then, just as I seemed to be get- 
ting out of the shadows into the bright sunshine, 
a black shadowy something would pull me down 
again, down into the black hollow on the other 
side. Reckon that’s what you’d call day dreaming 
by moonlight.” 

“We all have such visions. Chip,” observed Ger- 
ald. “Life is always a hill to surmount. Some- 
times it is fame or honors we seek at the summit. 
Sometimes it is wealth; now and then love only. 
There are plenty of dark crevasses awaiting the 
unwary step, and the glacial Alps in the winter 
are not more dangerous than the journey of life 
for some of us. That is why, little girl, you need 
a strong arm and sturdy heart to aid your ascent.” 


118 


POGG’S FPRRf 


Mr. White’s arm had again stolen about the 
slender waist of the young girl, and bending tow- 
ards her he was about to add words more tender 
and plain meaning, when the ^^crunching^’ of grav- 
el upon the ferry path attracted his attention, and 
his upraised eye met the grave glance of Judge 
Norwood. The latter he imagined looked both 
surprised and displeased. 

Gerald White colored up and arose in some con- 
fusion, hardly noticing at first that the girPs fa- 
ther and young Rawdon had also come upon the 
scene. 

The latter wore an expression partially clouded 
and angry, intermixed with an attempt at a sar- 
castic smile. 



CHAPTER XI. 

THE JUDGE MAKES A PROPOSAL. 

To go back a little; 

For some moments after Gerald^s departure 
there was silence on the float. Fogg was gazing 
off uneasily, and the Judge seemed pondering 
about how to commence proceedings. Finally the 
latter broke the silence, saying: 

^^Fogg, I’ve come to see you about your daugh- 
ter. I am given to understand that she’s become 
almost a young lady. I have never seen her since 
she was a very little child, and it is difficult to 
realize it. How old is she?” 

‘^Just sixteen, I believe.” 

^^You mean you know, don’t you? About my 
Blanche’s age. She must have had few opportu- 
nities to improve here at the ferry, and I am told 
she has never been to school.” 

^^That’s so. Chip’s never seed the inside of a 
school house.” 

^^But I am also given to understand that she has 
acquired the rudiments of an education through 
Jier owu exertions.” 


qi9) 


120 


FOGG’S FERRY 


The ferryman nodded: ^^She’s learned herself 
to read and cipher some for a fact.’’ 

^^That certainly redounds very much to her 
credit, and is hardly what might have been ex- 
pected from one situated as she has been. I mean 
no reflection on you or her mother, of course. You 
probably have done the best you could, but it has 
been rather unfortunate for the child that her op- 
portunities have been so limited.” 

Mr. Fogg continued to look afar aloof, as if he 
did not hear, and made no response. 

may consider this no affair of mine, Fogg, 
and resent an interference which might seem med- 
dlesome; but I don’t think you will when you un- 
derstand what I am about to propose.” 

The man he addressed at last gave some token 
of interest in the Judge’s words, and turned so 
as to meet his eye as he rejoined: 

^^Go on. Judge, and I’ll hear all you’ve got to 
say. I allers looked on you as a friend, under- 
stand, and I don’t reckon as I’ve counted wrong. 
I allow you must have something to tell me agin 
my Chip, and although I believe you must have 
been led off by some one as is no friend o’ our’n. 
I’ll hear civil, and argy it over with you cool and 
friendlike.” 


THE JUDGE MAKES. A PROPOSAL 121 


Mr. Norwood looked at him in an astonishment 
that amounted almost to bewilderment. 

“No, no, Fogg,’’ he exclaimed. “I haven’t come 
to say anything against your child. No one has 
ever spoken in my hearing anything derogatory to 
her, man. It is true I have heard that she has 
had few opportunities for improvement, and I’m 
sorry for it; why, you will comprehend when you 
hear my proposition.” 

“Go on. Judge,” said the other, as the lawyer 
paused. “I’m ready to hear the proposition.” 

“I want a teacher for a couple of little girls, rel- 
atives of mine, who haye been thrown upon my 
hands; and my student, Gerald White, thinks 
your daughter could fill the place.” 

The ferryman shook his head. 

“I’m afeard not. She’s not got the learnin’ her- 
self.” 

“I am not so certain of that,” the Judge went on. 
“Of course I am at a great disadvantage in the 
matter, from not having seen Miss Fogg since her 
babyhood. But I am informed, as I say, that she 
reads and writes fairly, and that is about all that 
is essential at first, as the children are very young, 
and will be mere beginners. Besides, if she is so 


122 


FOGG'S FERRY, 


clever and ambitious, she will improve herself 
while teaching them.” 

^^Oh, she’ll do that,” assented his listener. 
^^Chip’s smart, and mayhap arter all if she goes in 
to teach the kids you’ll not be so much disap- 
pointed.” 

‘^It will not only be a chance for your girl, but 
may be to your advantage also. I am willing to 
allow her five dollars per week and her board, and 
that sum will more than pay her expenses, and 
so probably will enable her to be of some assist- 
ance to you.” 

Mr. Fogg pondered. 

kin see. Judge, ’twill be a great thing for 
Chip. It’s the chance she’s been hankering arter 
these two years — ever since Gerald White put 
into her noggin’ this idea of eddication. Reckon 
you’ll laugh. Judge, but little Chip’s got the idea 
into that tow head o’ hear’n, that she wants to 
be, and means to be, a lady.” 

But the information did not seem humorous to 
the Judge, who did not even smile. On the con- 
trary, he looked at the father in a sympathetic 
way, as he answered: 

don’t think such an ambition as that is to be 
treated with derision, Ploughboys have become 


the judge makes a proposal 123 


presidents in this country, Fogg; ploughboys that 
commenced self-taught, too. I honor the girl for 
her determination. It confirms the favorable 
opinion I had formed of her. May we consider the 
engagement as made?” 

Mr. Fogg shook his head doubtfully, a little to 
Mr. Norwood’s surprise. Finally he answered: 

‘Tar as I am concerned you may. But there’s 
the mother to be considered.” 

“But surely she will not object. It is as much to 
her interest as to yours, aside from any considera- 
tion due the girl herself.” 

“She will object,” Zeb Fogg remarked, with a 
further shake of the head. “Yes, she’ll be dead 
agin it, and so orter I be, I reckon. But arter all I 
don’t know. If it’s to come, it’ll come, and there’s 
no use trying to fight it off.” 

“I don’t know what you mean,” exclaimed Judge 
Norwood, looking hard at him. “What’s to come?” 

Fogg, who had apparently been talking to him- 
self, aroused at the words, and looked at the 
speaker in some confusion. 

“I’m shooting off my mouth wild,” he finally 
said. “I orter to be very glad to get the gal away. 
It’ll take her out o’ his clutches no way.” He 
smiled as if a pleasant thought had struck him. 


124 


FOGG'S FERRY 


^^Out whose clutches?’’^ 

‘^Bruce Rawdon’s — ” 

^What has he to do with your daughter?” 

“Mr. Rawdon reckons to marry Chip.” 

“Does she love him?” 

“Not a bit of it.” 

“Then, assuredly, that must end the scheme.” 

“I dunno ’bout that. You don’t know Mr. Raw- 
don.” 

“But I do know Bruce Rawdon,” retorted the 
Judge. “I have known him all his life; his father 
is my next neighbor, and a very estimable man. 
The boy has also always seemed a manly young 
fellow.” 

“Yes, he’s a bird, he is,” answered the ferryman 
dryly. “Maybe you know him. Judge — and maybe 
if you know him, I don’t. But I see you mean my 
Chip’s good in this yer business, and so you kin 
count on me; and I reckon I can talk the old wom- 
an over.” 

“I fail to see why there should be any opposition 
to a plan so manifestly to the girl’s advantage, 
but you may know better than I of reasons. Let 
us seek your wife at once and settle the matter.” 

Zeb Fogg turned at the words as if to accom- 


THE JUDGE MAKES A PROPOSAL 125 


pany the speaker, but, just as he did so, there 
came a clear ^^Hallo!” from the opposite bank. 

/'Passenger,'' exclaimed the ferryman. Then, 
glancing across the stream, he added: "Talk of 
the old un, if it isn't Bruce Eawdon hisself !" 

He looked doubtfully at the Judge as he spoke, 
as if to inquire what course to take. 

"You can't leave him waiting there, Fogg," said 
the latter, answering the glance. "Besides, after 
what you have said of him, it might be as well to 
have the gentleman present. I will ride over with 
you." 

Fogg made no answer, but proceeded at once to 
propel his boat across the river. 

It will be understood now why the Judge was 
so long in making his appearance on the bluff. 

The trip across was made very rapidly, and 
without any conversation. Judge Norwood stood 
in the center of the craft, revolving several things 
that gave him subject for reflection over what 
was, in his eyes, a simple proposal, much to the 
advantage of the ferryman as well as his daugh- 
ter. Yet he had not failed to notice that the fa- 
ther had appeared startled and even frightened 
at the idea of intrusting his girl to his, the Judge’s 
care. Mr. Fogg seemed confident, also, that his 


126 


FOGG^S FERRY. 


wife would share this feeling and oppose the plan. 
Then, again, Bruce Kawdon: — that the latter 
should desire a match with a penniless, ignorant 
ferry girl, was in itself a matter for wonder. The 
Rawdons were perhaps the most aristocratic of 
his neighbors, proud of a descent from an old 
North Carolina family, and filled with that caste 
prejudice more often met with in the South than 
elsewhere. But if Rawdon did want the girl, and 
she were averse to him, why should Fogg fear the 
young man, as he evidently did, and consider the 
matter as by no means settled? 

There was evidently a mystery or mysteries in 
the air and Judge Norwood did not like the 
thought. He half repented of his scheme to take 
Chip into his household, and began to reflect 
whether it might not be wiser to recall it. 

Their arrival at the Southern bank of the river 
ended his cogitations. 

^Why, Judge Norwood,’^ exclaimed a hearty 
voice, as he looked up, “this is a surprise. I’m 
much pleased to meet you, however.” 

Nevertheless, Mr. Rawdon’s expression hardly 
bore out the friendly words. He glanced suspi- 
ciously at Fogg, as if to ask the meaning of the 


THE JUDGE MAKES A PROPOSAL I2t 


rencontre. But the old man looked away and said 
nothing. 

There was eertainly a foundation for specula- 
tion and curiosity in finding a busy attorney like 
Mr. Norwood apparently idling away his time on 
the ferry fioat. 

Judge Norwood had always liked young Kaw- 
don, who was accustomed to visit his place at 
times, but now it struck the older gentleman that 
the. newcomer’s manner was a little false and hol- 
low, and he mentally repeated the ferryman’s 
words: ^^Maybe you know him, and I don’t.” 

^‘Enjoying a holiday on the river?” asked Raw- 
don, very suavely, as the boat was being pushed 
out. 

was just consulting Mr. Fogg on a matter of 
business,” was the decidedly icy reply. 

Bruce colored a little, evidently resenting the 
elder man’s manner. 

^Then I trust I am not intruding.” 

^^Not at all. We had finished all we had to say.” 

After that there was silence. Rawdon was 
burning with curiosity to know what the Judge 
could have in common with Fogg, but was too 
well bred, or perhaps politic, to betray his feeling. 

The ferryman shot an inquiring look at the 


128 


FOGG^S FERRY 


Judge, as if to ask if he should enlighten the 
youth. The shrewd lawyer understood him, and 
nodded an assent. Fogg, however, took his time 
before speaking, and weighed his words with care. 

‘What Judge Norwood’s been talking to me 
needn’t be no secret to you, Bruce Rawdon. The 
Judge wants my Chip.” 

Rawdon started, and turned toward Norwood, 
as if expecting a revelation in that quarter. But 
the Judge only eyed him with an impassive face. 

“Wants Chip!” repeated the young man. 

“Only as a governess,” now responded Norwood, 
with a smile. “I don’t need a daughter, you know, 
and certainly am not after a child wife.” 

“The Judge is good enough to pick my child for 
his teacher,” put in Fogg. 

“Teacher!” echoed Rawdon. “Surely not for 
Miss Blanche?” 

“No,” answered the Judge, laughingly. 
“Blanche’s schooldays are over. Her thoughts 
now are bent upon a debut into society. Miss 
Fogg is to take charge of two little nieces who 
have just come under my care.” 

“Then the matter is arranged, is it?” Rawdon 
said, turning upon Fogg with what seemed a 
threatening air. 


THE JUDGE MAKES A PROPOSAL 129 


reckon it be,” was the response. “So fur as 
I’m concerned it is, noways.” 

“And the other matter — my proposition; you 
understand.” 

“Oh, yes, I understand. That kin come up 
later.” 

Rawdon looked for a moment as if about to 
blaze up, but repressed himself, and nothing more 
was then said. The Judge did not appear to no- 
tice their little dialogue. 

The boat went purling gently through the 
water, and a few moments later its keel grated 
gently upon the pebbly beach at the foot of the 
cliff. 

The Judge and Rawdon disembarked, and stood 
waiting while Fogg secured the boat to the bank. 
Then the latter led the way towards the top of the 
cliff. 

The tableau that met their gaze as they reached 
the summit is already known to the reader. 


CHAPTER Xll. 


CHIP SECURES AN ENGAGEMENT. 

If Zebulon Fogg had noticed Mr. White’s affec- 
tionate position beside his daughter he probably 
considered it discreet to appear to ignore it, for 
without a word he bore up to the house in quest of 
his better half. Mrs. Fogg was busy at her stove 
as he entered, engaged in culinary duties, and did 
not even look up at his appearance. The old man 
walked straight to the bureau, took from the 
drawer a black quart bottle of spirits, and im- 
bibed from its neck a very long draught. He evi- 
dently thought the situation grave enough to de- 
mand a stimulant. 

This action did attract his spouse’s attention, 
and she growled out: 

‘^Now what’s up, you bloat?” 

“Everything’s up,” he replied, “or going to be. 
Here, take something to brace you up. You’ll 
need it.” 

He tendered her the bottle, which|she snatched, 
and proceeded greedily to follow his example. 
Wiping her mouth with her apron as# she fin- 

( 130 ) 


CHIP SECURES AN ENGAGEMENT 131 


ished, she gave him an inquiring look; ^‘Well, 
what is it?’^ 

Judge Norwood’s outside.’’ 

'What?” 

"He’s come for Chip.” 

Some of the woman’s superabundant color de- 
serted her cheeks at the tidings, and a grey look 
of terror took its place. 

"Has he found out anything? Has he charged 
you with — well, with what?” 

Zeb shook his head. 

"No. He don’t know nothin’, and’s as green as 
our goose of even thinkin’ anything. He just 
wants her for to learn some little children as he’s 
takin’ care on.” 

"He shan’t have her.” 

" ’Twould be a mortal fine chance for the girl.” 

"She sha’n’t go, I tell you.” 

"I dunno ’bout that. He’s seen her. He’s out 
there talkin’ to her now. She’ll be crazy to cotton 
to him, and it will be purty hard to not let her, 
without him thinking there must be something 
wrong. Besides, if he don’t smell a rat, Bruce 
Rawdon does, and if the gal stays here we’ll have 
trouble with that young gent. Arter all, I reckon 
the safest things for we uns is to let Chip go. 


132 


FOGG^S FERRY 


Even if the whole biz is blowed they can’t touch 
you; — me nuther, for that matter.” 

The wife paused a while, and seemed pondering 
the pro and con of the proposition, before she an- 
swered: 

^‘Eeckon what you say is as good as gospel arter 
all. Well, it won’t rup up agin me Kery much. 
I never did take very strong to the brat, and as 
for that young dandy that’s arter her, it’ll do me 
good to see him grit his teeth. Let’s go out and 
see what the Judge mought have to say.” 

Meantime, White had rallied sufficiently to pre- 
sent Chip to Judge Norwood. 

The latter took both the girl’s hands in his, and 
looked into her clear eyes with something more 
than a merely friendly interest. There was a puz- 
zled expression in his face. 

^^Don’t think me rude. Miss Fogg,” he said, re- 
laxing at last into a smile, ‘^in so staring at you. 
^Your face seems familiar. It recalls — you cer- 
tainly remind me of some one I have known; and 
yet how can that be?” 

He was now speaking to himself rather than to 
her. 

“It cannot be remembrance of you, for I have 
not seen you since you were an infant, and then 





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CHIP SECURES AN ENGAGEMENT 135 


merely for a moment. It must be a chance resem- 
blance. Has Mr. White told you my plan in re- 
gard to you?” 

Her look of surprise answered the question, 
see,” he added dryly. ^‘He probably has 
not had enough time to get at it.” 

^‘Judge Norwood wishes you to come to his 
house as teacher for two little nieces,” said Ger- 
ald, blushing like a young maid at the elder’s 
words. hope for both your sakes that the mat- 
ter will be arranged.” 

Chip’s eyes sparkled with pleasure. 

would be awful glad,” she said. ^^But,” and 
she shook her head; ^^I’m sure I don’t know enough 
for a teacher.” 

^^Not ordinarily, perhaps,” remarked Judge Nor- 
wood. ^^But in this case we know and have can- 
vassed your qualifications and your limits, and I 
think you had better try.” 

^^I’ll be glad to do that,” Chip answered. ^That 
is, if mammy will only let me; and I’ll just bet 
she won’t.” 

^^If you’ll permit me a word. Judge,” here Eaw- 
don spoke. ^‘Mrs. Fogg will not consent, for the 
reason that we have other plans for the girl. 
So far from being fitted for a teacher, she needs 


136 


FOGG’S FERRY 


teaching herself, and I have submitted to her pa- 
rents a project to send Chip to school for several 
years, to which they agree. I should be sorry to 
interfere with any scheme of yours. Judge, but 
you must see that the girFs interests lie in my di- 
rection.” 

The elder gentleman looked at the girl question- 
ingly. Her face flashed up indignantly, and she 
turned to Kawdon, exclaiming: 

will thank you to attend to your own affairs, 
Bruce Rawdon. I will never go to a school or open 
a book again to please you. I know what you’re 
after, and I have told you I wouldn’t have it, and 
I won’t. So there!” 

‘Tt would certainly be of great advantage to 
Miss Fogg to go to school,” remarked the Judge 
slowly. ^^It would be extremely selflsh in me to 
prevent her from so doing. But as I know nothing 
of your authority for making such an offer, Mr. 
Rawdon, I think we had better refer the matter 
to Mr. and Mrs. Fogg; and here they come.” 

As he spoke. Chip’s parents had emerged from 
the house, the man looking furtively at them, sus- 
picious and timorous of manner, and the woman 
appearing merely sullen. 

^^Have you communicated my offer to your wife. 


CHIP SECURES AN ENGAGEMENT 137 


Fogg?” Mr. Norwood asked, as the ferryman ap- 
proached. 

The latter nodded. 

- ^^And what do you both say?” 

^^Before you answer that question,” interrupted 
Mr. Rawdon, sternly, as he stepped in between 
them, ‘T want you to pass upon my prior proposal. 
I may as well explain. Judge, that I wish ulti- 
mately to make Chip Fogg my wife. I cannot be 
accused of any selfish motive in this, as the girl 
has nothing but her virtues and her pretty face. I 
have also offered to educate her for the position I 
design for her. Both Mr. and Mrs. Fogg approve 
of my plan, and give their sanction to the mar- 
riage. Am I not right?” he asked, appealing to 
them. 

The Judge had been watching Chip’s face dur- 
ing these words, and divined the truth, so far as 
she was concerned. 

^Tirst of all,” he observed, ^det us ask what the 
young lady has to say about your very advantage- 
ous offer for her future provision.” 

“The young lady says, no!” exclaimed Chip 
promptly. “Bruce Rawdon, I told you yesterday 
I wouldn’t marry you, and now I say again I’ll 
never do it if you coax me till I’m gray. You 


138 


FOGCS FERRY 


can skip, I tell you, for your staying round here 
won’t do you any good.” 

Kawdon’s dark eyes gleamed angrily as he 
turned to Mother Fogg. 

“Are you going to allow this girl to defy us?” 

“As far as I’m momoxed up in the mess,” she 
answered, “it don’t worry me much. Reckon I’ve 
changed my mind. The gal kin do as she pleases.” 

The young man’s face grew perfectly livid with 
rage and disappointment, and shaking his fist at 
Mrs. Fogg he hissed: 

“So far as you are concerned the girl can do as 
she pleases. Judge, I tell you, and I tell you all, 
this girl they call Chip Fogg has no business with 
that name, and this hag is not her mother!” . 

Mr. Fogg turned away as if to escape the storm. 
But his wife coolly faced the inquiring eyes bent 
upon her, with her arms akimbo. 

“Talk’s cheap,” she answered, a quiet sneer, in 
her manner. “If I ain’t Chip’s mother, whose 
mother am I?” 

Overpowered by the conundrum, Zeb Fogg 
shook his head in a melancholy way, and mut- 
tered: “I give it up.” 

The Judge, Oerald White, and Chip all looked 
^t Rawdon intently, w'alting for an explanation, 


CHIP SECURES AN ENGAGEMENT 139 


But the latter in his anger had probably been too 
hasty, and had said more than he intended. He 
bit his lip, and remained silent. After a me- 
mentos pause. Chip spoke: 

‘^Mr. Rawdon, what do those words mean? I’ll 
put mammy’s question in another shape. If she’s 
not my mother, who is?” 

There was no answer. 

‘^You’ve said too much or two little,” continued 
the girl. 

“Sometime I will say more. Not now,” he an- 
sw’ered. 

Chip turned from him with a look of utter scorn. 

“He has said more than he knows, that’s what. 
He has just told a wicked lie.” Then to her moth- 
er; “Mammy, Mr. Norwood offers me a great 
chance. He wants me for a teacher, and I want 
to go. May I?” 

The old woman did not reply at once. Her eyes 
roved over the entire group, and she appeared to 
relish the expectancy which her delay occasioned. 
Then she said, sententiously: 

“Yes, go.” 

Little Miss Fogg clapped her hands in joy. 

“And you, father?” turning towards the old 
man, who had wandered off. 


140 


FOGG’S FERRY 


He came towards her as he answered: 

^^You know, Chip, I^m always agreeable to any- 
thing for your good, and this I reckon is the best 
thing that^s ever turned up for you. Take it, my 
girl, and I hope you and the JudgeTl both get a 
good bargain out of each other.” 

‘Top,” said the girl, “you^re an old darling,” and 
she threw herself in his arms. 

“Perhaps we had better step inside and discuss 
the details,” suggested the Judge to the ferryman 
and his wife. 

They nodded assent and moved towards the 
house. 

“Can you be ready to commence upon Monday?” 
he continued, turning to Chip. 

“I’m ready now,” was the eager reply. 

Mr. Norwood smiled and followed Fogg and his 
wife into the cabin. 

White had wandered to one side during the fore- 
going conversation, and had thrown himself upon 
the grass, looking down at the river. 

Bruce Rawdon was standing beside the table 
rock, his gaze turned away also, and wearing a 
moody and uncomfortable expression. 

Chip gazed at him hesitatingly. She had some- 


CHIP SECURES AN ENGAGEMENT 141 


thing to say, but hardly knew how to express her- 
self. 

“Bruce Kawdon,” she finally said, quite gently, 
and there was a little ring of pathos in her voice, 
“the way things look now, I reckon it don’t matter 
much whether Mammy Fogg’s my mother or not. 
I’m not a child. I’m sixteen years old to-day, and 
I’m a woman. I allow you didn’t think so, maybe 
because I’m so little; and reckoned I hadn’t a 
mind of my own. That’s what made you act so as 
to set me against you, and made me say things to 
you that I’m sorry for. I know you’ve been right 
kind to me, and you’ve given me lots of help. You 
and Mr. White it was who helped me to my start 
in life. If it wasn’t for you two I couldn’t take 
Judge Norwood’s offer to-day, so I’m thankful to 
you, and I feel awful bad we’ise had to have a 
muss.” 

Gerald White now arose and came up to her, so 
that the two young men were standing upon 
either side of the girl, out on the beautiful bluff, 
listening to her words, the three forming a pretty 
group, with a sylvan setting of sward and shrub- 
bery and trees. 

“I’m going out in the world to fight my way. 
I’m leaving the old ferry, maybe forever. It has- 


142 


FOGG^S FERRY 


n’t been the best or easiest of lives here, and yet 
I love this old place. I love it, I allow, because it’s 
my home. I can’t leave it, and I can’t leave some 
as have been a little rough on me sometimes, with- 
out a soft feeling here.” She pressed her hand to 
her heart. don’t wan’t even you, Bruce Raw- 
don, to feel hard towards me. I’m not a lady — not 
yet. The finest of clothes couldn’t make me one. 
But I’m going to try to be one. I have a chance, 
and I don’t believe I’ll miss my mark much. Now, 
I don’t want either of you to speak one word. I 
just allow to ask you to give me some sign you be- 
lieve in me. Something, you know, to show you 
don’t laugh at the idea that the little ferry girl 
may some day stand before you a lady!” 

Both of the young men paused doubtfully for a 
suitable reply, and looked at each other gravely, 
as the girl ceased speaking. Then they turned to 
her, as if the movement had been concerted and 
rehearsed, and simultaneously raised their hats 
and bowed. 

And upon this tableau we drop the curtain for 
a moment. 


CHAPTER XIIL 


MR. STILL EXECUTES A COMMISSION. 

The Judge was occupied but a few moments in 
completing his arrangements with the Foggs. The 
latter made no demur to the salary he men- 
tioned, which as they knew was really liberal un- 
der the circumstances. Then he shook hands with 
both of them, the woman being silent and rather 
sullen, and Fogg himself seeming disturbed and 
nervous; and emerged from the house just too late 
to witness the picture described at the close of the 
last chapter. 

^^Come, Gerald,’’ the Judge said briskly, ^Ve 
must be moving. Young lady, I will send for you 
early Monday morning. Don’t disappoint me.” 
will be ready, Judge.” 

«Yery well. ’Till then, good-bye. Miss Chip.” 

^^Good-bye,” echoed the girl. 

Mr. White also made his adieu, with a silent 
lifting of his hat, and the two gentlemen disap- 
peared down the cliff. Rawdon still lingered be- 
hind, and Chip looked at him inquiringly. 

believe this will be a splendid opportunity 

(14S) 


144 


FOGG^S FERRY 


for you, Chip, and I am sorry now I spoke against 
it. My own offer I consider was better, and that is 
why I opposed the Judge’s. I will see you soon at 
Norwood’s. There is nothing in this step you are 
taking to prevent your agreeing to my proposal 
ultimately. I was a little hasty perhaps, but, girl, 
I really and sincerely love you, and I do mean to 
make you my wife.” 

He waited for her reply, but she looked at him 
steadily, and said not a word. Probably he was 
relieved that she did not reiterate her refusal, for 
after a pause he smiled, raised his hat, and said: 
^^Good-bye till we meet again,” and started down 
the hill. Chip stood for an instant, looking after 
him, before voicing her thought. 

“I reckon I didn’t care anything about you, Mr. 
Bruce Rawdon. But I do now. I hate you.” 

With these words, said only to herself. Chip 
turned towards the house, meeting her father on 
the way to the ferry. The old man stopped her, 
patted her head affectionately, and said softly: 

‘T’m mortal glad. Chip.” 

“So be I, Pop. I’m going to be of some use after 
all— ain’t I?” 

“You’re going to be a lady, sure, my gal,” he 
replied, with a beaming smile, as he went his way. 


MR, STILL EXECUTES A COMMISSION 145 


Mother Fogg had been near enough to overhear 
this passage of words. But she did not join in her 
husband^s congratulations. She turned into the 
house without a word. 

^^Mammy acts as if she hated to see me get 
along/^ thought the girl. But she was light- 
hearted, and at present elated with her prospects, 
and the reflection did not cloud her spirits. 

Chip was naturally impatient for the Monday 
which was to inaugurate the great change in the 
tenor of her life, and Sunday would have been a 
long and tedious day, only that Gerald White put 
in appearance shortly after noon. Chip expected 
a seance of school work, such as had marked his 
previous visits, and brought out her books. But 
Mr. White willed otherwise. 

‘^No school to-day, my lady. This is your last 
day at home. Chip, and it must be a holiday.” 

He had come on horseback, and after they had 
started for a stroll down the river, leading the 
steed, he persuaded the girl to mount the animal, 
while he walked beside her. The absence of a 
side-saddle did not much incommode Miss Fogg, 
who was a fair horsewoman; and they had a long 
and entertaining excursion, happy in each other^s 
society. 


146 


FOGG'S FERRV 


But Gerald White took no advantage of this oc- 
casion, and did not renew his attempt at love 
making. There was even nothing of especial ten- 
derness in his manner, and Chip thinking of yes- 
terday wondered whether he repented his ad* 
vances. 

This mental query made her reserved and even 
distant in her manner, and so their stroll was not 
a lovers’ walk by any means. 

About nine o’clock the next morning Mr. Fogg, 
sitting smoking upon his float beneath the cliff, 
observed a vehicle approaching from the direction 
of Judge Norwood’s house, and recognizing the 
driver, crossed at once to meet him. 

It was a raw-boned lad, of blonde appearance, 
and blinking eyes, who officiated as driver of the 
trap; none other indeed than our whilom friend, 
William Still, or to be familiar. Still Bill. He had 
come in the Judge’s buckboard, and was alone. 

While the ferryman was engineering his land- 
ing, Mr. Still had stepped from the buggy and 
secured his horse to a sapling. Then he stood on 
the bank staring placidly at Mr. Fogg, but saying 
never a word. 

The latter with equal taciturnity, returned the 


MR. STILL EXECUTES A COMMISSION 147 


look for a time before he spoke. Then he said 
gruffly: 

^^You air a still one, you air. iWhere be you 
bound for, Bill?” 

^‘Nowhere,” was the sententious reply. 

“What are you arter for here? Come to see 
me?” 

As if the question called for reflection, Mr. Still 
gazed into space a moment, seemingly to decide 
whether or not such were his business at the river. 
Then, rolling his eyes towards the ferryman, but 
not turning his head a particle, he answered: 

“No.” 

Mr. Fogg blinked at the young man a moment, 
grinned slightly, and, after another pause, pro- 
pounded another inquiry: 

“You ain^t got the cheek to tell me you’ve come 
around here to make up to my wife, Mrs. F. ?” 

With a slight raise of the eyebrows Bill let fall 
one more monosyllable: 

“No.” 

“Well, there’s no else; ’ceptin’ Chip. Do you 
mean for ter stand there and tell me as you’ve 
come to call on my darter?” 

“No.” 


148 


FOGG'S FERRY 


“Then who the dinged devil do you want to 
see?’’ cried Fogg impatiently. 

With another preliminary pause for reflection 
came the brief and sage reply: 

“Nobody.” 

“I don’t understand; understand? What in the 
name of all that’s aggravatin’s brung you here?” 

For reply Mr. Still reached into his pocket, drew 
forth and held aloft a sealed envelope, and said 
sententiously as ever: 

“Letter.” 

Zeb Fogg stepped out of his boat, moved up to 
the bank to the side of the lad, and peered at the 
document as if it were a novel and disturbing dis- 
covery. Then he asked, at the same time reaching 
for the envelope: 

“Be it fur me, William?” 

By a turn of his wrist Mr. Still placed the mis- 
sive beyond the old man’s reach, and answered 
quietly: 

“No.” 

The ferryman eyed the letter hungrily. 

“Not for Mrs. F., I reckon?” 

Still shook his head. 

“Then it must be for my gal. There’s no one 
else here. Is it for Chip?” 


MR, STILL EXECUTES A COMMISSION 149 


An inclination of his head indicated on the part 
of the messenger that the old man had solved the 
enigma. 

The latter continued to eye the coyeted docu- - 
ment. 

‘‘Is it from the Judge?” 

“Yes.” 

“Writ with his own hand?” 

“Yes.” 

“All right, guv her to me.” 

And the ferryman again attempted to take the 
note. But Mr. Still warily held it out of reach. 

“No.” 

Mr. Fogg now glared at the lad angrily. 

“Look here, Bill Still; I’m that girl’s paternal 
ancestor — her popper; understand? Why can’t I 
have it?” 

“Orders,” was the sententious rejoinder. 

The ferryman was baffled, and appeared greatly 
vexed. 

“Orders ! You mean you’ve been told to not give 
it to no one but Chip?” 

Still nodded. , 

“Well, then you jist git up on your buckboard 
agin, and drive right back to where you come 
from, and tell Judge Norwood as my gal don’t 


ISO 


POGCS PERRV 


get no letters, even from jedges or generals, as I 
can’t read first; understand?” 

The lad looked at him meekly, and bowed an as- 
sent. Yet he lingered doubtfully. 

Fogg observed this, rolled up his sleeve with an 
ominous air, and came quite close to the messen- 
ger, who viewed these martial preparations with 
an evident perturbation. 

When all ready for the fray the ferryman con- 
tinued: 

‘^Now, Bill, I’m biz — is it go, or is it fight?” 

Mr. Still, after reflection, made the prudent an- 
swer: 

^^Go.” 

‘^All right. Then, Bill, shoot.” 

And the speaker emphasized his verb by level- 
ing a finger like a firearm in the direction of the 
Judge’s mansion. The latter’s ambassador fol- 
lowed the motion of the member with his eyes 
deliberately, and then quietly turned towards the 
horse’s head with the ejaculation: 

''Shot.” 

Satisfied with his victory, the ferryman stepped 
upon his float. He turned to eye the Judge’s mes- 
senger again, just as the latter had released his 
horse from the sapling. Whether it was that Mr. 


MR. STILL EXECUTES A COMMISSION 151 


StilPs meek submission had engendered a feeling 
akin to pity, or that the old man on reflection had 
doubted the wisdom of his course, the ferryman 
had evidently altered his mind somewhat, for he 
said in a softened tone: 

^^Say, Bill, reckon the Jedge hey. sent you to 
bring Chip over to him.” 

^^Dunno,” was the curt reply. 

“Were you told partickler to guv that ^ere let- 
ter to Chip’s own hands?” 

Mr. Still nodded. 

“Oh, well,” muttered Mr. Fogg, “I can’t see as 
it’s any great harm in letting you do it. Tie the 
boss to the saplin’ agin, William, and hop on the 
float. You’ve been sent for the gal, I know, and 
that’s what’s in the letter.” 

William dutifully acted as he was bidden, and 
in a few minutes was conveyed to the opposite 
side of the river. Not a word was spoken by 
either of the men until the float grated against 
the pebbles upon the northern shore. Then Fogg 
said: 

“Now, Bill, you’d best skoot up to the house, 
guv Chip the letter, and hurry the gal up. I’ll 
wait here.” 

The messenger nodded, and in another moment 


152 


FOGG’S FERRY 


had disappeared around the base of the cliff. 
Fogg lighted his pipe, made a pillow of his jacket, 
and reclined at ease in the bottom of the boat. In 
a very short time the heat had its influence, and 
when Still returned with Chip, and carrying a 
goodly bundle containing her wardrobe, a half 
hour later, the old man lay fast asleep. 

He was aroused, and prepared to propel the 
boat, but his daughter interposed. 

“You sit there and smoke, Pop,^’ the girl said. 
“And let me run the float. It may be for the last 
time.” 

“But iPs so heavy, Chip,’^ he pleaded. 

The young lady laughed merrily. 

“It wasnT so heavy. Pop, when I was only half 
as big as I am now .You do as I say. You know I 
must always have my way, donT you?” 

He nodded and smiled, and relit his pipe, while 
Chip propelled the boat steadily towards the op- 
posite bank. 

This reached, she sprang ashore, and clambered 
nimbly into the buckboard. Bill Still meantime 
released the horse, and then took his seat beside 

her, after stowing her wardrobe in the back of the 
vehicle. 




MR, STILL EXECUTES A COMMISSION 1§5 


‘^Now, good-bye, pop, and be a good boy. Come 
and see me soon.’^ 

^^Good-bye, my dear,” answered the old man, his 
yoice really tremulous with emotion. ^^Don’t for- 
get your old dad, whatever comes to you. And be 
a good, steady girl always. Chip.” 

^^Girl! Oh, you dear bad old Pop! Why, don’t 
you know, I’m done being a little girl, and am go- 
ing to be a young lady, as grand and fine as the 
rest of them? A lady. Dad!” 

And with her merry laugh fioating out over the 
water Mr. Still touched up his steed, the buck- 
board rattled off down the pike, and the ferryman 
wms left alone. 

Alone! The old man looked solemnly after her. 
He could not know, but he probably prophetically 
realized, or at least feared, what that parting 
meant. 

She had gone out of his life forever. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


A NEW LIFE. 

In half an hour the backboard deposited the em- 
bryo governess at Norwood, where Martha Blod- 
gett was in waiting to receive her. There was 
no one else to welcome her, for Judge Norwood 
was away for the day at his office, and his daugh- 
ter and the children had gone out for a drive. 

At her request. Chip was shown at once to her 
room, a neat and pretty apartment situated at the 
rear of the house. It possessed an inviting gar- 
den and river view. The time was already noon, 
and Martha informed her that lunch was ready. 
But Chip felt timid and ill at ease, and though she 
had eaten nothing since an early breakfast she 
really was not hungry, and therefore declined the 
implied invitation. So Miss Blodgett, who was 
not devoid of tact, with a few kind words of wel- 
come, discreetly left the girl. 

When she found herself alone Chip looked out 
of the window for a while, then gazed wonderingly 
about the room, which seemed far too elegant, in 
her opinion, for the poor little elf so suddenly 

( 156 ) 


A NEW LIFE 


157 


transplanted from the rude surroundings of the 
ferry. Finally, she stealthily opened the door, 
and peered out into the dimly lighted hall. There 
was no one there, and a sense of solitude seemed 
to overwhelm her. She felt a longing to wander 
over the entire house and explore its mysteries. 
To her, who could only compare it with the cir- 
cumscribed cabin at the ferry, it seemed vast as 
some grand castle. But she was bashful and 
dreaded meeting any one — Blanche in particular. 

So she sat down again, and a sense of depres- 
sion, and even of fear, came over her. Finally, 
sex-like, she burst into tears, and enjoyed the 
luxury of a good cry, though what occasioned the 
paroxysm she would have found it difficult to ex- 
plain. 

But youth is volatile, and this outburst over, 
she threw herself on the bed, and soon lost all 
sense of worldly matters in a sound and refresh- 
ing slumber. 

In the meantime Blanche and her charges had 
returned from their drive. Miss Blodgett in- 
formed the young lady of Chip’s arrival, but Miss 
Norwood took no notice of the tidings, and as 
usual occupied herself with a book and some 
fancy work on the yerandah. The children were 


158 


FOGG^S FERRY, 


sent up for their daily afternoon nap, and at 
Blanche's request were not informed of the pres- 
ence of their governess. 

Judge Norwood reached home about four 
o^clock, much earlier than was his habit. 

^^Has Miss Fogg come?’’ he at once inquired of 
his daughter, rather eagerly, she thought. 

^^Yes, I believe so,” answered Blanche coldly. 

“Do you not know?” 

“Martha told me she had.” 

“Where is she?” 

“In her own room, I believe. I have not seen 
her.” 

The father looked at the speaker in some sur- 
prise, but passed into the house without any com- 
ment. 

“Martha,” he said to the maid, who was wait- 
ing in the hall, “send the children into the sitting 
room, and inform Miss Fogg I will be pleased to 
meet her.” 

He had hardly seated himself in his easy chair 
by the window when the two little girls came tum- 
bling over him, fairly taking their grave guardian 
by storm. 

“Here, this won’t do, girls. You must be upon 


A NEW LIFE 


I5d 

your good behavior. Your governess has arrived, 
and is coming to see you here at once.” 

Both little ladies checked themselves, and 
looked towards the door in awe. 

‘Tshaw!” then cried Edna. don’t want her 
coming here to spoil our fun. Cross old thing.” 

^^Hush,” said the Judge, for at that moment 
there was a tap upon the door. It was Martha 
who opened it, and announced: 

“Here’s Miss Fogg.” 

Chip had followed the servant with unwonted 
timidity for her. The surroundings had thrown a 
cloud over her spirit, and somewhat awed her; 
but she was reassured in a moment by the Judge, 
who advanced and took her by the hand in a kind- 
ly way. 

“Miss Fogg,” he said, “I am glad to welcome you 
to Norwood, which you must not forget is now 
your home. These are your little charges, my 
nieces, Edna and Tennessee.” 

Edna, the elder, bowed rather sedately. Little 
Miss Tennessee stood with a finger to her lip, eye- 
ing the newcomer critically. At length she said: 

“She’s not a tross old ting, Edna.” 

Chip laughed, caught up and kissed the child 
impulsively, and answered: 


160 


FOGG'S FERRY 


not be cross to you, my dear, any way.’’ 

At this Edna advanced gravely and tendered 
her hand, as she said naively: 

like you. Miss Fogg. You isn’t cross, and 
you isn’t very old.” 

Chip bent down and kissed the sedate little 
face upturned to hers. 

^Mnd I mean to love you both, Miss Edna; and I 
shall be disappointed if you don’t love me just as 
much.” 

think you will get along together,” com- 
mented the Judge. 

They were interrupted by the entrance of 
Blanche, who received her introduction to Miss 
Fogg with a polite though somewhat supercilious 
and frigid bow. 

^^And now for dinner,” cried the Judge, who 
seemed in high spirits. ^^Children, you shall sit 
at the same table with us. This is a gala occa- 
sion, you know. Miss Fogg is not your teacher to- 
day, but our guest.” 

The little girls clapped their hands in glee, but 
Chip somehow still felt depressed. Blanche acted 
throughout the evening with a cold and courteous 
condescension that chilled the girl’s spirits, and it 

was with an intense feeling of relief that the new 


A NEW LIFE 


161 


governess at last reached her own room, after 
what had seemed the longest and most uncom- 
fortable evening she had ever passed. 

And before she retired the girl had another 
characteristic feminine cry. 

And thus commenced her novel career at Nor- 
tvood. 

We pass over most of the details of Chip’s new 
life. She learned her duties as governante sur- 
prisingly well for one with her antecedents, and 
her two little charges soon gave evidence that Mr. 
White’s recommendation and the Judge’s confi- 
dence had not been misplaced. 

Even Blanche could discover no occasion for 
fault-finding, though her manner remained as dis- 
tant and uncordial as ever. 

Bruce Rawdon was a frequent visitor at Nor- 
wood, and there seemed a general tacit under- 
standing that he came as the accepted suitor of 
Miss Norwood. Chip never saw him except at a 
distance, and on his part Mr. Rawdon made no 
efi'orts to speak to her, and apparently never no- 
ticed her. His former passionate declaration 
seemed to be either forgotten or ignored. 

All this was very much to the relief of Miss 
Fogg, who had greatly dreaded a meeting with 


162 


FOGCS FERRV 


him. But another gentleman’s behavior did not 
inspire equal equanimity or satisfaction. 

Gerald White came to see the Judge occasion- 
ally, but not often. His visits averaged perhaps 
once a week, and were manifestly meant for the 
Judge only. He had a courteous word now and 
then for Miss Fogg when he met her, but he never 
sought a tete-a-tete with her, and the girl thought 
over his tender words at the ferry with a sense of 
wounded pride and indignation. Her manner to 
him became merely distantly polite, if not even 
haughty. She was, in short, ‘^on the outs” with 
him. 

For now she recalled their last walk together, 
and remembered that even then he seemed to have 
forgotten his ardent words of the day before; and 
she began to divine his motives. 

“He said more than he intended that day,” she 
thought, ^‘and wants me to understand that it can 
never be. Oh well, I know I’m not good enough 
for him, and he needn’t be afraid I’d ever try to 
get him. I wouldn’t have him now.” 

Nevertheless, Miss Chip kept an observant eye 
on the young gentleman whenever she noticed him 
in the company of Blanche. But she saw nothing 
in their relations to disturb her. Miss Norwood 


A NEW LIFE 


168 


was inclined to be habitually sarcastic v/ith Ger- 
ald, as was generally her manner with everybody, 
while he was simply good-humored and inatten- 
tive. 

Several months thus quietly passed away, with 
no particular incident worth noting. 

One evening, about three months after Chip’s 
arrival, Gerald White, entering the ground afoot, 
beheld the little governess seated under a tree 
with her diminutive charges crouched at her feet, 
reading to them from a book. He came up quietly 
behind them, screened by the tree, and confident 
that his approach had not been observed. That 
the children had not seen him was beyond doubt, 
and Miss Fogg’s back was turned to him. He 
came in time to hear her say: 

^^Now I will read you a story: ‘The boy and the 
dog. A little boy has a pet dog. Will the dog 
bite the boy? No, the dog will not bite the boy. 
Why will not the dog bite the boy? Because the 
boy will kick the head off the dog.’ ” 

But Miss Edna, looking gravely over the read- 
er’s shoulder at the book, said in a shocked tone: 

“Why, Miss Fogg, there’s no story there.” 

“Isn’t there?” exclaimed Chip. “What would 


164 


FOGG^S FERRY, 


be thought of me if some one sneaked up behind 
the tree and heard me?” 

“I suspected you had seen me,” said Mr. White, 
revealing himself; ‘^and I am rejoiced that I heard 
nothing to make my ears tingle.” 

Miss Fogg here remembered their strained rela- 
tions, arose, and said, in a dignified way: 

Judge Norwood is not at home yet, but you 
will find Miss Norwood in the parlor.” 

Gerald ignored her words, and said to the little 
girls: 

“Children, lessons are over. Kun in the house 
like good girls, as I have something to say to Miss 
Fogg.” 

“Must we go. Miss Fogg?” Edna asked. 

“You^d better,” answered Chip. “Young gentle- 
men always expect to have their own way.” 

So the girls strolled off towards the house, and 
the governess turned her back on Gerald to ex- 
emplify the way she felt towards him, and stood 
twirling her hat by the ribbons. 

“You are vexed with me,” began White, when 
they were alone. “My conduct may seem very 
capricious, perhaps, even unfeeling; but it was en- 
tirely for your good that I have acted so distantly. 
Blanche was much opposed to your coming here, 


A NEW LIFE 


165 


and Blanche, you know, can be a Eery ugly foe. 
So I wished to give her no excuse for enmity tow- 
ards you. She doesn’t care for me, mind. I be- 
lieve she is really in love with that fellow Raw- 
don, but she has a selfish and jealous disposition, 
and if she noticed me paying you any attention 
she would resent it, and perhaps visit the conse- 
quence upon you.” 

don’t want your attentions,” replied the girl 
airily. 

‘^That is not my little pupil now talking, but a 
bit of jealous femininity that resents unreason- 
ably what I consider my prudence. Dear little 
friend, don’t think I have forgotten my words at 
the ferry, and have no fear that I will not speak 
them again. But they were premature, and we 
must be prudent, and wait. I am glad you are get- 
ting along so nicely. The Judge speaks enthusi- 
astically of you.” 

Chip’s manner relaxed, and she answered with a 
mischievous laugh: 

‘^Don’t you swallow everything they give you, 
Mr. White. Jerusalem! I’m tough yet!” 

‘^No, Chip, you are not, and never were. You 
are naturally refined and never was what Blanche 
styled you.” 


166 


POCC'S PERRY 


^What did she say of me? I have a right to 
know.” 

^^Nothing very frightful. She once called you 
vulgar.” 

‘‘I’ll just bet I’m no more Kulgar than she is.” 

“No, you are not,” was White’s smiling re- 
sponse. “But for the credit of your sponsor don’t 
let yourself out so strong.” 

“I don’t, except to you,” the girl cried warmly. 
“You know I want to be a lady. But how can a 
fellow help giving her tongue a holiday when that 
—when she runs me down? For half a cent I’d 
tramp right back to the ferry. I’ve been a lady 
now for three months, and I’m nearly used up. 
Besides I don’t have to stay here. I’ve had an 
offer. I can become a blushing bride.” 

“I know what you mean. To be sure you can — 
in time. That is, if you’re willing to accept an 
acceptable offer. We think so, do we not?” 

“I oughtn’t to say so, ought I?” 

“Why not. Chip? It would show your good 
taste. But it couldn’t be just yet.” 

“Oh, yes it could, Gerald White — if I said so.” 

“But my dear child. Think of the state of the 
exchequer. There’s no surplus in the treasury. 


A NEW LIFE 


161 


When people marry, they eat— at least that is the 
custom. Now the income of a law clerk — ’’ 

^^Law clerk!’’ Chip laughed heartily; then went 
on, mimmicking Rawdon quite cleverly: would 

like to be a lady, and live in a grand house, with 
servants to wait on me, and wear beautiful 
clothes. Why, he is wealthy, or his father is. 
Law clerk indeed!” 

Mr. White’s lips compressed, and he looked at 
her earnestly, as he asked: 

‘^Is there then another?” 

She nodded and smiled. 

‘Wou mean Rawdon? Does he still pester you?” 

^Well not lately,” the girl was compelled to ad- 
mit. ^^Not since I came here.” 

Gerald looked relieved. 

‘^He won’t here. He’s afraid of Blanche. I 
think they are engaged, and he is simply a scoun- 
drel to pursue you further. Now, dear little girl, 
acknowledge that you are offended with me with- 
out cause. For financial reasons I could not mar- 
ry yet, and to compromise you by attentions that 
might be noticed would be quite unjust to you. 
Besides I thought each read the other’s heart. I 
felt that we loved though we never told it.” 

replied Chip, with a gleam of mischief ip 


168 


FOGG'S FERRY 


her eyes, “he said that we loved though I never 
felt it/’ 

“Never mind him,” exclaimed White cheerfully. 
“We understand each other now. There’s no one 
about to observe us. Little darling, let me take 
you just once to my heart.” 

“Mind my hat!” cried Miss Fogg, as she plunged 
impulsively into his arms, and the first kiss she 
had ever known followed. A moment later she 
drew away and shook her head. 

“No, no, it would never do. You’d be ashamed 
of me.” 

“I’d be ashamed of myself if I were.” 

She went on: 

“I see things now better than I did at the ferry. 
I know I’m not a lady like Blanche, and you are — 
I mean you’re her equal and I am not. I don’t get 
on as I ought to, for its awful hard to learn with 
no one to teach. I don’t reckon I’m cut out for a 
lady. Blanche looks down on me, but I don’t care 
for that because I don’t like her. But you, Gerald 
White, — you that I look up to and think more of 
than anybody in the world — ” 

“Stop, Chip!” he cut in. 

“I won’t!” she shouted, dashing her hat to the 
earth. “I do like you, and I don’t care who knows 


A NEW LIFE 


169 


it! And if you ever get ashamed of me, it will 
break my heart, thafs what!’’ 

A storm of sobs supplemented her impulsive 
words. Gerald drew her tenderly to him. 

^^My little darling, be calm. Don’t force me to 
tell now what has been in my heart, growing 
stronger and stronger, ever since the first day I 
met you. You know I love you Chip. There are 
some things that don’t require to be told; and it 
will not be long, little girl, before I shall be in a 
position to proudly proclaim that love to the 
world.’^ 

Miss Fogg who had been sobbing on his breast 
now burst into a convulsive fit of hysterical laugh- 
ter, much to Gerald’s surprise, and a little to his 
annoyance. 

‘^You little rogue,” he exclaimed in a hurt tone, 

do believe you are laughing at me.” 

^T’m laughing with you, Gerald White. You 
can’t allow maybe how happy it makes me to 
think that you, too, have something to accomplish 
before we reach our levels.” 

^Wou are right to think so. This would be a 
dull world if we didn’t all look forward to some 
goal in the beyond. Chip.” 


170 


FOGCS FERRY 


At that moment he saw Judge Norwood ap- 
proaching from the stables, and in some confusion 
disengaged himself from the embrace in which he 
had held Chip, and where up to this time she had 
loyingly reposed. 


CHAPTER XV. 


BOLTER. 

It was .very early one balmy morning, when the 
sun was just peeping over the crest of the ridges 
of the mountains to the west of the Fogg cabin, 
and a heavy mist, as yet undispelled by its rays, 
rested like a white smoke upon the river, that a 
man, short, stout and rugged in appearance, came 
rolling down the road which led to the ferry, with 
a gait not unsuggestive of that of some ‘‘ancient 
mariner.” He wore a rough suit of clothes and a 
broad-brimmed, slouch hat; and his face was 
nearly hidden by a gray and grizzly beard. He 
kept upon his way down the road to the float, and 
upon finding no one there he spied about until he 
discerned the path that ascended to the ferry- 
man^s house. 

Up this he then slowly plodded, after a mo- 
ment of hesitation, till he arrived in sight of the 
cabin. A light column of smoke ascending from 
the kitchen chimney apprised him that, early as 
it was, some one was up; but he did not proceed 
towards the house. 


( 171 ) 


172 


FOGGS FERRY 


^^Too early for old Zeb, in course. He always 
was slow and sure, and always liked his bed, did 
Mr. Zebby.” 

He next surveyed the river from the cliff for a 
while, and then retraced his steps to the ferry- 
boat, into which he stepped, doffed his coat and, 
made a pillow of it, and finally lay down in the 
bottom of the craft. Probably he slept, as he 
betrayed no sign whatever of life; and more than 
an hour elapsed before his siesta was interrupted. 

At the end of that interval he was aroused by 
footsteps descending the rocky path, and shook 
himself like a mastiff and sat up. It was the 
ferryman who now made his appearance, and, 
greeting his passenger with a mere wordless nod, 
which was as silently returned, proceeded to start 
his craft on its initial voyage for the day. 

The stranger leisurely lit a pipe and said not a 
word for a time, but sat watching Mr. Fogg’s pro- 
ceedings with interest. They had about reached 
the middle of the river when the newcomer roused 
up, again shook himself together, and spoke: 

^Tardner, drop them lines a bit, and come over 
here. I want to ax you a little about things.” 

Fogg turned towards him in surprise and even 


BOLTER 


173 


something approaching trepidation, as he an- 
swered; 

^What do you want out of me now?’^ 

“I only want you and me to be a little more so- 
f ciabler, don’t you see; like two such friends orter.” 

The ferryman stared at him a moment as if to 
see where the jest lay, and then in silence started 
as if to resume his labor. 

^^Hold on that,” cried the stranger. meant 
jist what I said just now. I ginerally do. I ain’t 
givin’ to shootin’ off my mouth like a pappoose or 
a monkey, I ain’t. Come oyer here, I say, and sit 
down. This is just the place for a pow-wow, and I 
wants one with you bad, I tell you.” 

Mr. Fogg'saw that the man was in earnest, and 
seemed mystified and troubled. Involuntarily he 
looked around cautiously, but they were in mid- 
stream, where there was no possibility of lis- 
teners. 

Finally he approached the other slowly, and 
stood blinking at him with his watery eyes. 

‘^See here, stranger, what kin we find to talk 
about? Nothin’, I allow. You don’t know me. I 
don’t know you. You never even seed me afore.” 

In the way of reply to these words the other 
man threw back his head and burst into a coarse, 


174 


FOGG*S FERRY 


loud guffaw, indulged in till the tears came down 
his cheeks. Finally he wiped his eyes with the 
back of his hand, shook his head with a knowing 
air, and said: 

“You allers was a rum cove, Zeb.” 

“Rum cove,” repeated the ferryman, gently rub- 
bing his nose, as if he discerned a double meaning. 

The visitor eyed that member, which shone un- 
usually purple in the morning air, as he added: 

“Oh, I don’t mean in the way of drinking, 
though I’ll bet you’re just as strong on that lay as 
ever. Stronger, eh?” 

Mr. Fogg eyed him with a puzzled air, but said 
nothing. He was evidently trying to recall his 
passenger, and failed. There ensued an interval 
of silence, which was finally broken by the ferry- 
man. 

“Look here, governor*. I’ve got my business to 
look arter, and we’re foolin’ away time. You 
ain’t got nothin’ special to say to me; you can’t 
have. You don’t know me. Never did. Under- 
stand? Now how’d you know my name was Zeb?” 

Again the man roared with a sort of inward 
laughter. 

“That’s good. It are for a fact.” Here he re- 
moved his hat. “Pardner, look at this here head. 


BOLTER 


m 


The face fooled ye, on account maybe of the hair 
on it. I quit shaving years ago, for reasons. Look 
hard, and then you kin talk. Bet a few years ain’t 
guv me a new face; has it?” 

Mr. Fogg, who had been intently eyeing his un- 
couth visitor, suddenly changed manner, and in 
something like affright, gasped: 

^‘Jim Bosley!” 

‘^Oh, no. Bolter — Jim Bolter now. Changed the 
name same time as my face, and for the same 
reason. A little affair with a boss in it, which 
didn’t consarn you, howsomever.” 

‘^Don’t understand.” 

know you don’t. That accident occurred in 
the mines, many a mile from here, and months 
arter you and me turned our backs on each other. 
But I didn’t come here to gab about things you 
don’t know or care about. I wants to know a 
little about what consarns us both. Where’s the 
gal? You know. The one I guv you to keep. The 
one your old woman said she’d take for her own 
darter. She’s alive, ain’t she?” 

Fogg did not answer at once. He looked 
straight into the speaker’s piercing eyes, and 
there was a momentary temptation to end the dis- 
cussion by an answer in the negative. But the 


176 


FOGCS FERRY 


feeling that Mr. Bosley, or Bolter, probably knew 
the truth, conquered, and he replied : 

^^Yes, she’s alive.” 

^‘In course. She was a healthy younker. And I 
reckon at she’s your darter, ben’t she?” 

‘^Yes; that is she was, understand. But she 
don’t live with us now.” 

Where is she now?” 

^With Judge Norwood.” 

^^Tarnal earth,” exclaimed Bolter, staring at the 
ferryman in unfeigned wonder. ‘What the devil 
do that mean?” 

“Nothin’ to skeer about. He wanted a teacher 
for some kids he’s raisin’, and picked on Chip. 
That’s all.” 

“How long ago?” 

“Oh, a few months.” 

“Where does he live? Same old place?” 

Mr. Fogg nodded. 

“How fur is it from here? I’ve forgot.” 

“Five miles.” 

“I’m going there. I’ll go to-day.” 

“What for?” 

“To see the gal.” 

“What for?” 

“I don’t know. I want to see her, and know 


BOLTER 


177 


what she’s like. I’m down, and here might be a 
chance to make a raise. See?” 

‘‘You wouldn’t darst, Jim.” 

“Wouldn’t I? I’ve had bottom bad luck in the 
mines for true, but I know a payin’ lead when I 
strikes it. This gal may be a mine — a richer bit 
of quartz than any as I’ye hit on this many a year. 
Why shouldn’t I work her?” 

“See here, Jim Bosley — ” 

“Bolter, I told you.” 

“Look you, Jim, Chip’s my gal — my darter; un- 
derstand?” 

“No, Zeb, not all your’n — our’n. We’re pard- 
ners, my boy, and you knows it. You’ve had the 
assets, as they calls ’em, in your hands a long, 
long while; and now, it’s only fair play to give me 
a turn!” 

“It won’t do, Bosley.” 

“Bolter!” 

“Bolter, you mustn’t think of this thing. It’d 
get us both in a bad hole. The law’d grab us 
sure.” 

The other looked at the speaker with that same 
inwardly amused expression. 

“Same old Zeb. You never did have no narve. 
You allers bluffed easy.” 


178 


FOGCS FERRY 


^^Don’t you bluff now. It won^t do, I tell you/^ 

‘^Zeb, you dry up! You know me. You know I 
don’t turn, once I strike out on a trail. I’m goin’ 
to see that gal afore I goes to bed to-night, I tell 
you. So shove the old boat along!” 

With a dismal groan Fogg turned to obey him. 
As he was proceeding to move the float towards 
the southern bank Bolter spoke again: 

^‘Not that way. I don’t want to cross — not now. 
We’ll go back to the house flrst. I want to see 
the old woman. She don’t bluff’ easy, she don’t. 
She’s more of a man nor you any day.” 

Probably not knowing what further to say, and 
realizing the fruitlessness of attempting to alter 
Bolter’s intentions, Fogg started his craft on its 
return without a word of reply. 

Mr. Bolter relit his pipe, which had gone out 
during the foregoing conversation, and was 
equally silent, until they had relanded at the base 
of the cliff. The soft purling of the Tennessee, 
and the measured puffs of the smoker, were there- 
fore the only sounds which broke the silence, until 
the ferry-boat struck against the northern shore. 

Then the strange man arose, and shook the 
ashes from his pipe. 

^^I ain’t no fool, Zeb. I’m not going to show up 


BOLTER 


179 


around the Judge^s till after dark. And you^ve 
got to go along and pint out the trail.’” 

Fogg seemed cowed and offered no objections. 
Finally he inquired, in a submissive tone: 

^^And where’ll you put durin’ the day?” 

“Where! That’s a sweet hospital question, ain’t 
it? Why, with my old friend and pardner, Zeb- 
ulon Fogg, Exquire. Him, and the wife of his 
buzzom. Samantha’ll be glad to see me agin if 
you ben’t. And you needn’t go to any trouble to 
entertain me nuther. I don’t want no fatted calfs 
killed. Oh, no. A couple of chickens’ll do. Now 
don’t stand there and look as if your grandmoth- 
er’s ghost was talkin’ to you, man. Brace up, and 
lead the way to your hospital fireside.” 

Zeb Fogg meekly obeyed, and started up the 
path towards his domicile, Mr. Bosley-Bolter roll- 
ing along close upon his heels. 


CHAPTER XVL 


CHIP ENCOUNTERS A THORN. 

Judge Norwood held in his hand a small pack- 
age, which he had probably brought up from 
town. As he approached the little group under 
the tree he eyed them narrowly, though not un- 
kindly. It was the first time he had noticed Ger- 
ald and Chip together since the tableau upon the 
rock before the cabin. At present their positions 
were innocent and distant enough, and the Judge 
apparently had not seen them a moment before; 
or at any rate if he had he gave no sign. 

^^Ah, Gerald, I see you are making yourself at 
home with your old friend. This is the first time 
I have found you together since Miss Fogg came 
here, and I will take this opportunity to say that 
the young lady has justified all you promised for 
her. It is only fair to measure capability by re- 
sults, and the children have been progressing sim- 
ply splendidly. 

^‘They are both so bright and clever,’’ put in 
Chip, coloring a little at the praise, the first she 

had ezer received. But she was naturally the 
( 180 ) 


CHIP ENCOUNTERS A THORN 


181 


more elated at Judge Norwood’s words, because 
heretofore since her arrival he had seemed re- 
served and distant. 

‘Terhaps so. I hope so,” was the genial re- 
joinder. ^^But at any rate they have also a bright 
and clever instructor, and I not only want you, 
Miss Fogg, to know how pleased I am, but I de- 
sire to assure this young scamp that the best 
stroke of work he ever did for me was to bring 
you to Norwood. My tots improve so marvelously 
that I can only liken their progress to your own, 
Miss Fogg. For I am not blind to the fact that 
you refine day by day. By Jove, I feel rather ag- 
grieved.” 

^^At me?” she inquired. 

‘^Yes, at you. I liked you so well at first that I 
am reluctant to see you change.” 

^^May not I grow?” asked the girl demurely. 

^^At any rate don’t grow saucy.” 

He said this coming up to her side, and patting 
her head in the kindliest manner. 

Gerald White, who had witnessed the little 
scene with a feeling of intense satisfaction, no- 
ticed at this juncture a figure approaching them 
from the house, and interrupted: 

^^Here comes Blanche, Judge.” 


m FOGCS FERRY 

Mr. Norwood stepped back from Chip, with a 
change of manner and awaited in silence his 
daughter’s approach. A hush fell over the entire 
group, and a feeling of constraint seemed to en- 
velope them. • 

Miss Norwood came up with a smile, but it was 
a smile which somehow made one feel uncomfor- 
table. There was acid in it. 

^^Father!” she abruptly exclaimed, as if calling 
him. Then more softly she added: ‘T beg pardon 
if I interrupt a conversation of importance; but I 
thought it only fair to apprise you that dinner has 
been waiting more than half an hour.” 

‘^We will come at once, Blanche; and, to prove 
my gratitude for the welcome tidings, I have 
brought you the dress pattern you desired.” He 
gave her the package he had carried, and then 
crossed towards the house. ^^Gerald, I feel cer- 
tain that Hades holds no fury like a woman whose 
dinner is allowed to become cold. Avoid the 
wrath to come, my boy. Keep us waiting at your 
peril !” 

With that the Judge entered the house. 

Chip could not help feeling that he stood some- 
what in awe of his daughter; and she marvelled 
at it.” 


CHIP ENCOUNTERS A THORN 


183 


"Miss Norwood,” said Gerald, "spare your poor 
father. If you must strike, wreck your vengeance 
upon my devoted head.” 

His manner was half earnest, half mocking. 

"I beg pardon, Mr. White, if I seemed crusty. 
With a woman, you know, a waiting table does 
cover a multitude of — temper.” 

Her manner was smiling and affable, but there 
was an underlying stratum of something like ir- 
ritation in the words. At least both her hearers 
thought so. Miss Fogg moved to one side, and 
left the speakers to their tete-a-tete. 

"The summer lightning that cleaves the sombre 
atmosphere of what might otherwise prove a su- 
perhuman sweetness!” gallantly retorted Gerald, 
with a polite bow. 

"Taffy for two !” commented Chip to herself. 

"Thanks,” Blanche answered rather coldly. 
"Will you do me the favor, Mr. White, to tell Still 
to ask Martha to take this package to my room?” 

As she spoke she extended towards him the lit- 
tle parcel her father had given her. He did not 
offer to take it at once. The request seemed to 
savor of burlesque, and he looked to see if she 
were really earnest in her desire. 


184 


FOGG’S FERRY 


“Cannot I assist you, Miss Norwood inquired 
Chip, stepping in between them. 

Blanche, who was much the taller, looked down 
upon the girl with an air of supreme supercilious- 
ness, and then smilingly answered; 

“You! Why of course. I forgot we had another 
menial here.” She extended to Chip as she spoke 
the bundle, which Miss Fogg mechanically re- 
ceived. “Yes, you bring it. Come, Mr. White, 
don’t delay us.” 

There was no invitation to Chip, though she was 
accustomed to dine with the family. The latter 
stood as if riveted to the ground, her hands still 
extended, with the package lying in them. Miss 
Norwood swept around with the mien of a queen, 
and moved towards the mansion. Not until the 
hall door had closed upon her was there a word or 
a movement on the part of White or the ferry- 
man’s daughter. Gerald exploded first. 

“Well, I’ll be — never mind. I feel mad enough 
to be anything bad, and say something worse! 
My poor little Chip! For her to dare to address 
you in that way. It is easy to see now who the 
lady is in this family. I remember once your say- 
ing you were not a lady like Blanche. I should 
hope not!” 



“Well, goodbye, Pop.** 



CHIP E}^COUNfERS A THORN 


181 


During all this time the girl he addressed was 
standing like a statue, with her back turned tow- 
ards him, as she faced the door which hid Blanche. 
She scarcely seemed to breathe, and something 
like alarm for her took possession of the young 
man, as he added: 

say. Chip, you’re never going to wait upon 
that young catamount!” 

The reaction was almost equally startling to 
the speaker. He had sarcely uttered the last 
w^ords, when Miss Fogg whirled about, dashed 
the offending parcel to the sod, and then stood 
with blazing eyes, and hard drawn breath, gather- 
ing herself. In another moment she had rolled up 
her sleeves pugilistic fashion, as she answered: 

“Gerald White, if it w^asn’t unladylike I’d like to 
scratch the ten commandments all over her hate- 
ful face!” She paused for a brief interval, then 
with a scornful mimicry, continued: “Mr. White, 
will you do me the favor to tell my man Still, to 
ask my maid Martha to carry my package up to 
my room?” 

There was an ironical emphasis on the oft-re- 
peated pronoun. At the conclusion of the speech 
the speaker was unladylike enough to give the un- 
offending occasion of the disturbance a vicious 


188 


FOGG^S FERRY 


kick. Then she turned and swept off towards the 
house, in a ludicrous attempt to ape Miss Nor- 
wood's regal manner. 

Gerald White could not refrain from laughing 
as he watched her departure, though he was still 
indignant at the insult put upon her. Picking up 
the bundle he said to himself: 

^ We’re working up an appetite for dinner. Poor 
little Chip! I’m afraid her journey to young lady- 
hood lies over a steep and stony path. And Miss 
Blanche, too, had better be careful. If it comes 
to a battle royal between these young Amazons 
I’m not certain that my little protege may not 
prove able to hold her own.” 

As he approached the house, into which Chip 
had entered, Martha Blodgett appeared upon the 
porch, broom in hand. Coming up. White said to 
her: , 

‘^Martha, you are arrived at an opportune mo- 
ment. Your amiable mistress. Miss Blanche, de- 
sired me to request Mr. Still to ask you to con- 
vey your mistress’ package (videlicet this one,) to 
your mistress’ room. Now, as a family friend, and 
your’s in particular, I tell you this direct, so that 
Still can still be still.” 


CHIP ENCOUNTERS A THORN 


189 


So saying, he handed Martha the dress pattern, 
which she received with a grin, as she replied: 

‘‘La, me, Mr. Jerry — ” 

“Jerry!” he interrupted with a grimace. 

“Yes, Jerry. You takes my breath away with 
all them long words. I^m awful glad to see you, I 
am. I don’t get much chance to talk to you now. 
You do look so nice.” 

“Yes, I know. But, Martha, you must not be 
silly now. It won’t do, you know.” 

But Martha was not to be checked. With some- 
thing like a snivel she went on: 

“You are always hard-hearted and witty! Mr. 
Gerald, if you don’t encourage me you’ll break my 
affections!” 

“Here’s a picnic!” reflected the youth. He could 
not forget that, years before, in his callow days, 
he had been rather friendly with the young wom- 
an. But that was when his ambition lay in the 
direction, of pies and cake. So he answered in a 
kindly way: “Now, Martha, for your own good, 
you must stop this. Take Miss Blanche her bun- 
dle like a good girl.” 

“But I don’t want to bundle off yet. I’d rather 
stay here and talk to you.” 


190 


FOGG^S FERRY 


“No, if you must talk, go and talk with Still 
Bill/' 

“I can't," returned she. “He makes me do all 
the talking." Then her voice grew pathetic as she 
added: “Somehow, Gerald White, I don't think 
you care for me like you used to when you was a 
boy." 

“No, I've grown older since then, Martha, and 
you — well, to put it delicately, you, Martha, have 
not become any younger." 

This reference to her age, which had reached" 
towards the uncertain era, was too much for his 
hearer's temper, and she retorted indignantly: 

“You think I can't see what's what; but I know. 
You're after Miss Blanche. I'm not good enough 
for the likes of you. All right, you can have her 
for me. But she's got a temper, and she'll make 
you know it. I just hope as she'll pull every 
blessed hair out of your tow head, afore you've 
been married a month! I do. Oh, you monster! 
Oh, you crocodile! You're as ugly as you're mean, 
and I'll just take Still Bill or any other man if I 
wants to. I always did hate you, and now I des- 
pises the grass you walks on!" 

Martha retreated to the hallway after this per- 
oration, leaving Mr. White almost breathless at 


CHIP ENCOUNTERS A THORN 


191 


the assault. Just before disappearing into the 
house, she turned and fired a parting shaft: 

^^Ugh! you little pipestem lawyer!’^ 

Mr. White waited until assured that she was 
gone, then followed her slowly into the house, 
saying refiectively: 

^^Now I haye got an appetite for supper.” 


CHAPTER XVII. 


BLANCHE NOKWOOD’S AVOWAL. 

There were seated at the table a little later: 
Messrs. White and Rawdon, the latter having 
been a guest in the house nearly all of the after- 
noon; besides Judge Norwood, the host, and his 
daughter, and also was present, as attendant spir- 
it, Miss Martha Blodgett. The latter lady occa- 
sionally launched a hateful glare of her gray eyes 
at Gerald White when not observed. Of a sud- 
den the Judge noted the non-appearance of one of 
the family, and glanced at Gerald as he spoke, his 
inquiry having the odd effect of bringing color to 
the cheeks of the younger gentleman. 

^‘What can be the matter with Miss Fogg? 
Why is she absent?” 

don’t think that she intends coming to din- 
ner,” White replied. ^‘She complained of — of a 
headache,” 

“Ah, she is of a susceptible age,” observed Raw- 
don, with just enough of a sneer in his tones to be 
felt rather than observed. Miss Norwood eyed 
the speaker sharply, and the other young man 

( 192 ) 


BLANCHE NORWOOD'S AVOWAL 193 


looked at Kawdon angrily, but the latter gentle- 
man appeared innocently placid and unconscious 
in his manner. The remainder of the meal was 
concluded with only an occasional remark, and 
there was a general feeling of relief at its com- 
pletion. 

When adjournment was had to the drawing 
room, both young men took stations so as to look 
out from separate windows, each seeming restless 
and uneasy. The Judge finally relieved the em- 
barrassment by calling for Gerald from the sit- 
ting room, probably to again dwell upon some 
business explanation. 

Miss Norwood had taken up a book, and seemed 
to be utterly oblivious of what was occurring 
about her. 

Mr. Eawdon was glancing indolently out upon 
the lawn, now obscured and indistinct from the 
gathered evening shadows, and only relieved from 
impenetrable gloom by the first rays of a strug- 
gling young moon, when of a sudden he observed a 
lithe and light, apparently youthful, female figure 
emerge into view from the rear of the house, and 
then, after a pause, betraying indecision, continue 
leisurely down the path which led to the front 


194 


FOGG’S FERRY 


gate, her form soon being hidden by the heavy 
growth of park trees. 

The young man turned quietly, and noted that 
Miss Blanche was yet deeply immersed in her 
reading. 

believe I will step out upon the lawn and 
light a cigar, Blanche,’’ he said. 

The girl made no response, so he raised a front 
window, which came to the floor, and stepping 
lightly upon the verandah, closed it again from 
the outside. 

Next he lit a cigar, puffed it a moment, then 
glanced back into the apartment, and satisfied 
himself that the fair reader was taking no heed of 
his whereabouts. Stealthily slipping aside out of 
range of Blanche’s vision, he moved towards the 
front steps which led to the lawn and the outer 
pathway. 

He might have been perturbed had he known 
that Miss Norwood instantly dropped her book, 
sprang up, and peered at him through the cur- 
tains. 

By this time the girlish form he had seen was 
of course totally indiscernible, but Mr. Rawdon 
knew where he must find her, and had descended 
one or two of the steps which fronted the porch. 


BLANCHE NORWOOD'S AVOWAL 195 


when he was brought to an unlooked-for pause 
by the noise of heavy footsteps upon the gravel 
path which environed the mansion on the way to 
the kitchen and rear buildings. In another mo- 
ment the shambling outlines of William Still came 
into view. Without noticing the presence of llaw- 
don the man kept on down the path towards the 
front — thus following unconsciously the little 
gouvernante. 

After sufficient pause to allow Bill to move out 
of sight, Mr. Rawdon descended the steps to the 
same pathway. 

But even as he did so the hall door opened and 
Blanche appeared behind him. He paused very 
much annoyed, though he took care that the girl 
should not observe the feeling. 

‘‘It is pleasanter on the lawn, Bruce,” she said 
sweetly, “and I will join you out here. Let us sit.” 

The young man indulged in a grimace which he 
did not suffer her to perceive, but led the way with 
the best grace he could command to a rustic 
bench. ^ 

“Any place is pleasant with you to share it, 
Blanche,” he was gallant enough to remark as 
they seated themselves. 

She did not at once respond, but after quite an 


196 


FOGG^S FERRY 


interval of silence she spoke suddenly, and with 
such a variance of manner from his tone of bad- 
inage, as to fasten his attention upon her. 

wonder, Bruce Rawdon, if you really love me. 
Oh, I know you will say so, even swear so;’^ this 
she added as he turned in surprise. ‘^But some- 
times I think we have known each other too long. 
We have been reared together as boy and girl, 
you know, have been familiar ever as brother and 
sister. So we float along placidly side by side, 
and we consider ourselves engaged. Isn’t that 
about it?” 

“Is there any doubt concerning that matter?” 

“No. But yet we scarcely seem like real lovers, 
Bruce, and nothing tangible has in fact been ut- 
tered between us. I am afraid that if we are ever 
to come to a definite understanding I will have to 
do the talking.” 

He laughed lightly, and responded: 

“I am sure it would be charming to hear you.” 

“I believe I have the nerve to attempt it. Bruce, 
I do like you— yes, I even love you. Don’t answer, 
please. I have never met a man I could care for 
as I feel towards you; but” — she paused, then fin- 
ished slowly, “that may be because I haEe not en- 
countered many.” 


BLANCHE NORWOOD’S AVOWAL 197 


^^You know some. There is Gerald White.” 

“But he is too much of a boy.” 

“He is as old, if not older than I.” 

“In years, perhaps, but not in other matters. 
Besides, I never half liked Gerald White. I think, 
in fact, that I dislike him, perhaps because he is 
such a favorite of father’s. But ’tis not myself I 
fear. It is you. You do not exactly love me.” 

“Blanche!” 

“Well, why should we fear to face a fact? I 
know that you like me after your own fashion, 
but I doubt if it’s the right way. Have you ever 
met any other girl, Bruce, who took your fancy?” 

“How absurd. You know my whole life, 
Blanche. It has been lived almost exclusively un- 
der your eye. Can you think of any possible flame 
about here?” 

“What say you to our governess. Chip Fogg? 
Isn’t she pretty and interesting?” 

Rawdon laughed, but with a merriment that 
seemed forced. Then he replied quietly: 

“I can answer that query in your own words. 
That girl is even more truly a ^kid’ than Gerald 
White.” 

“Well, she would not make an appropriate mate 
for you, and I feel very certain that she don’t 


19S FOGG’S FERRY 

care for you. But don’t be crestfallen. I hardly 
think the chit knows what love means. Perhaps, 
Bruce, you do love me after all — or can in time. 
But Pm tired of this bucolic life here at Norwood. 
I want a change, and soon. Will you a^^k me in 
specific words to be your wife? Or will you drive 
me into asking you to marry me?” 

“Now, Blanche, dear, a truce to this nonsense. 
You know it is my heartfelt desire to possess 
you.” 

“That is hardly as definite as it might be, but 
like the man’s wound in Borneo and Juliet it will 
do. Now tell father, and have the affair settled.” 

“So I shall. But I sadly fear the Judge won’t 
want me for a son-in-law. Sometimes I think he 
positively dislikes me.” 

“He distrusts you. You know you have not al- 
ways been a model. But you need not fear. He 
will not oppose our wishes, albeit he may not look 
upon our union with exactly satisfaction. The 
truth is, he has become so wrapped up in this 
ferry girl that I half believe he "would look upon 
my absence from Norwood as a relief.” 

Bruce Kawdon darted an astonished glance at 
the speaker. 

“Don’t you imagine a great deal, Blanche?” 


BLANCHE NORWOOD'S AVOWAL 199 


I? I have noticed that of late he spends 
most of his leisure when at home with the children 
and their teacher. He always appears to brighten 
up when Chip is near him, and is ever inquiring 
after her should she be absent. You heard him 
at the table this evening. Oh! how I hate that 
girl! I suppose it will shock you to hear me con- 
fess that I sometimes fear I even detest him — my 
parent.’’ 

must put you down as an unfilial iceberg, 
dear.” 

‘‘If I am cold father has not done much to warm 
me to him, Bruce. A sort of barrier has always 
seemed to exist between us, and you well know 
that he has been little of a parent to me, except 
of course in supplying my needs. Most of my life 
has been passed away from him at school: Actu- 
ally, I have seen more of you than of him. It is 
only for the last year that I have known a home.” 

“You are aware that you had to receive an edu- 
cation?” 

“Oh, yes, I know. Possibly I don’t make myself 
understood. But I feel better than I can de- 
scribe the difference between his forced affection 
and what a real fatherly love should be.” 

There followed a brief silence after her words, 


200 


FOGG’S FERRY 


each appearing to be buried in thought. Then 
the gentleman rejoined: 

^^You seriously cannot doubt his feeling for 
you?’^ 

^Y^es, I can and often do. Mind, I think he 
tries to like me. But I fear we have been too 
much apart, and then again I may bring up sor- 
rowful recollections of my mother, whom he cer- 
tainly did love. Bruce, I feel certain that he 
cares more for Chip Fogg than he does for me.’’ 

‘^Small wonder, then, that you should dislike 
her so heartily.” 

^^Dislike is too mild a word. Say hate. I don’t 
see why he brought the girl here. He knew that 
Chip Fogg was no proper person for the position, 
and he was aware that I opposed her coming. 
Bruce Rawdon, at times, do you know, I doubt 
whether I am truly Robert Norwood’s daughter?” 

Rawdon laughed heartily. 

^^That is refreshingly ridiculous, Blanche.” 

“Not at all so, Bruce. Observe in the first place 
that there is not the slightest particle of resem- 
blance between father and me. That you cannot 
gainsay.” 

He was silent, thoughtfully eyeing her. 

“Now, bear in mind that I do not look at all like 


BLANCHE NORWOODS AVOWAL 201 


the portraits of my mother. Couple with that the 
fact that when an infant I was spirited away, and 
only restored months later, after my mother had 
succumbed to grief.” 

have heard the story. But what of it?” 

The girl stood up and looked at him curiously. 

^^You men can be so dense! What is there to 
contradict the theory that a bogus infant was re- 
turned to the Judge?” 

Rawdon smiled. 

‘That is a possibility, of course, but hardly a 
probability. But, Blanche, what may be very im- 
portant, do you suppose that your father — that 
the Judge — harbors any suspicion of the sort?” 

Miss Norwood shook her head. 

“He hardly suspects of course. But now and 
then I have fancied that his gaze would be turned 
upon me with a strange expression of thoughtful- 
ness, if not of doubt. I have especially noticed 
this since the advent of this ferry girl.” 

The gentleman started. 

“You surely do not mean that she could be his 
child?” 

“Certainly not. At the time of the abduction 
she was away somewhere in some mines, probably 
hundreds of thousands of miles from here.” 


202 


FOGG'S FERRY 


^^His manner to you has undergone no change, 
has it?’' 

^^Oh, no. I must say that he is always kind and 
indulgent. But I cannot help feeling that his 
consideration arises rather from a sense of duty 
than of love.” 

There was in Blanche’s voice a pathetic cadence 
as she spoke. 

Mr. Eawdon was affected, and eyed her wist- 
fully, even pityingly. Finally he rejoined: 

‘T am sorry to hear you speak so, Blanche. 
More sorry even than you, to have you feel as you 
do. Under the circumstances, I suppose that I 
had better speak to Judge Norwood at the very 
first opportunity.” 

‘^You must tell him at once, Bruce. As I said 
before, any change will be a welcome one. You 
don’t realize how I feel. I simply cannot endure 
this existence.” 

Kawdon arose, wound his arm caressingly about 
the girl’s waist, and then said, in a half mocking 
tone: 

^Toor desolate creature! How unhappy is its 
distressing lot.” 

^^Don’t try to make a jest of my feelings, Bruce,” 
the lady retorted, rather savagely, ^^Do you think 


BLANCHE NORWOODS AVOWAL 203 

a pretty home in the wilds all that a woman 
craves? My ambition is to mingle with the great 
world, which I have heard so much about. I want 
society. What is there here for me? Traders, 
hunters, planters, farmers — louts that I rank be- 
neath my horse — and women still lower. Here 
comes a specimen up the path now.’’ 

Upon glancing in the direction indicated, KaW'- 
don beheld bearing towards them the portly fig- 
ure and rubicund visage of the ferryman. 

^Ht is old Fogg, Chile’s father,” he explained, 
have no desire to meet him,” Blanche an- 
swered. ^^Kemember, Bruce, I rely upon you to 
put an end to this weary existence. I shall go to 
my room, now; to have a good cry perhaps.” 

She moved in a stately way towards the house 
as she spoke, and re-entered it. 

^Well, for downright cussedness,” was the com- 
ment of her companion, as he watched her off, 
^^give me a handsome young woman. I never shall 
be able to understand the sex, I’m afraid. I won- 
der if any man ever did or does.” 

Then, as he turned to greet Zeb Fogg, he added: 
owe heaven thanks for making me a man. 


CHAPTER XVIIL 


CHIP RECEIVES AN OFFER. 

When Miss Chip Fogg had entered the house 
after her encounter with Blanche Norwood, she ' 
maintained her dignified demeanor until she 
reached her room, oblivious of the fact that there 
was no one in the halls or on the stairways to take 
note of her dignity. Once within the seclusion 
of her sanctum, however, she broke down and 
gave full vent to her repressed feelings, casting 
herself upon the bed, and sobbing violently. 

^^All my striving is of no use,’^ she thought, ris- 
ing after the paroxysm had passed. feel — I 

know that I can neyer remain here. Miss Blanche 
hates me, and she means to drive me away. 
Whatever am I to do?” 

She had seated herself at the window as she 
asked this question of herself, and was gazing 
absentedly out over the plantation, which on 
that side the house stretched far away in full 
view. It by now had become somewhat dark and 
indistinct, the field hands having alreadj^ retired 
to their quarters. Floating up the broad stairway 

(204^ 


CHIP RECEIVES AN OFFER 


205 


came to her very plainly the murmurs of the sub' 
dued voices of the group at the dining table. The 
girl sat for a long time motionless, until, as if 
moved by a sudden impulse, she threw on a hat, 
and sought the garden by means of a rear pas- 
sage, evidently desiring to avoid encounter with 
any one. 

Once in the open air, she hurried around to the 
front of the mansion, and proceeded down the 
gravelled path which would lead her to the pub- 
lic turnpike which inclosed the grounds. As may 
be surmised, it was Chip whom Bruce Kawdon 
had noticed from the window. 

The girl had no purpose in this journey. She 
was only desirous to escape from her own 
thoughts, and from any present meeting with her 
little human world. Her one desire in her misery 
was to be alone. 

Down near the end of the path, and quite close 
. to the entrance gate was a circular wooden bench, 
attached to a large and shady beach tree. She 
threw herself upon this seat, glanced around to 
see that she was not observed, and then feeling 
very solitary and doleful became somewhat in- 
clined again to lapse into a lachrymose condition. 

It was quite dark under the shadows of the low 


206 


FOGG'S FERRY 


reaching branches, though the atmosphere was 
perfectly clear, and the rays of the young moon 
revealed even the broad turnpike but feebly. No 
sounds were audible save the chirp of a stray 
cricket, the shrill one-two-three of a katydid, and 
from the distant water the occasional faraway 
croak of a great frog. 

Everything environing her appeared lonesome 
and solemn to Miss Chip, much as if nature her- 
self had become in sympathy with the young 
lady^s friendlessness. 

This state of affairs, however, existed but a few 
moments. Then the solitude was dispelled by the 
sound of a man’s heavy footsteps, approaching 
from the house; and as he came up Chip was not 
displeased to recognize in the newcomer the stolid 
lad, Still Bill. He came directly to her, evincing 
no surprise at finding her so far from the house at 
such a late hour. He stopped upon reaching her 
side, and stood staring at her in his usual silent 
manner. 

Chip glanced up at him with a look of inquiry, 
but the lad remained quiescent, manifesting no 
intention to commence a conversation, although 
he did clear his throat several times, in an embar- 


CHIP RECEIVES AH OFFER 


207 


rassed manner. Observing this, Miss Fogg at 
length put a question: 

^^Is there anything the matter, Bill? Aren’t you 
well?” 

^‘Yes,” he replied. Nothing more. 

After a further silent pause, the girl made an- 
other trial at converse. 

“Getting late.” 

“Yes,” he again assented. 

She arose with the words: “I must return to 
the house.” 

“No,” protested William. 

“No! Why, have you something to say to me, 
Bill?” 

“Yes.” 

There was an emphasis on the word that meant 
something. 

“Very well,” rejoined Chij), dropping into her 
seat once more. “Proceed. Say it.” 

But Mr. Still once again merely cleared his 
throat. 

“You’ve caught cold,” the girl remarked. Then 
to encourage him, she continued: “Well, as you 
were saying, William — ” 

With some effort the gentleman gave utterance 
to, for him, quite a lengthy sentence: 

“Savin’ man.” 


208 


FOGG'S FERRY 


“So you are/’ assented the girl. “Especially of 
your tongue.” 

“Want wife,” he proceeded, disregarding her 
delicate sarcasm. 

She laughed softly. 

“That’s a good break, Billy. You ought to have 
a wife, if only to do your talking.” 

Turning his eyes upon her for the first time, he 
now ejaculated: 

“Want you!” 

She returned his look absolutely astounded. 
Nothing on his part had prepared her for the sud- 
den avowal. 

“Me?” 

And then Miss Fogg was guilty of a decidedly 
undignified action for a model young schoolmis- 
tress. She fairly rolled off her seat to the ground, 
in a fit of laughter. As soon as she caught her 
breath, she added: 

“Oh, Lord, I’m all broke up.” 

The gentleman, who evidently was very far from 
perceiving any humor in his proposal, turned a 
placid gaze upon Miss Chip, and waited expect- 
antly for his answer. Finally, somewhat ashamed 
of her cachinnatory ebullition, she arose and 
came to him kindly, with the words: 


CHIP RECEIVES AN OFFER 


209 


^^You must pardon me, William. But it came so 
unexpectedly — your declaration, I mean — that at 
first it really did seem funny.” 

^^Bargain?” he stolidly inquired, holding her un- 
swervingly to the issue. 

^^Bargain! Very well, I see I must believe you 
in earnest. Then, sir — then, Mr. William Still, to 
confess the truth, the suddenness and — and over- 
whelmingness of your pop — proposal has — so 
knocked me, as it were, that all I can say is, I 
don’t know what to say!” 

As if expecting some addition to this extraor- 
dinary evasion, the serving man remained per- 
fectly quiescent, merely turning an inquiring 
glance upon her. She continued after a short 
pause: 

husband’s a pretty serious thing, William, 
especially for a girl.” 

He assented with a nod. 

‘^Give me a day or two to think over the matter.” 

As these words were calculated to inspire at 
least hope in the young man’s breast, he bright- 
ened up, and with a pleased manner replied 
briskly: 

''Month!” 


210 


FOGG^S FERRy 


no/^ exclaimed Miss Chip, with a smile; 
^^two days will be ample.” 

As he made no remark as to this, and the girl 
concluded the interview at an end, she also spoke 
no further, and there was an awkward interval of 
silence, until finally the governess ended it by a 
somewhat marked hint: 

^^Now, William Still, I want to be alone, but I 
am too polite to ask you to go !” 

Still Bill glanced at hel^ rather sadly, turned 
away with the expressive monosyllable, ^^Gone!” 
and shambled up the path towards the house. 
Chip followed his retreat for a moment with an 
amused smile, then suddenly became grave. 

^Toor Bill,” she thought, ^^perhaps after all he 
means it, and who knows but he possesses a heart 
to feel as strongly as another. At any rate, I feel 
sure that there is more true love now in his home- 
ly old breast than Mr. Bruce Rawdon is capable 
of.” 

With a sigh, that showed she was affected, she 
arose and strolled out to the gate, where the 
moonlight lay brightly upon the white dust of the 
road. Gazing dreamily up its length in the direc- 
tion of her former home, she suddenly started, and 
heh manner became one of keen observation. 


CHIP. RECEIVES AN OFFER 


211 


About an eighth of a mile beyond her the turn- 
pike ascended in a gentle swell up to a consider- 
able height, and upon the crest of this rise, clearly 
defined by the rays of moonlight, she could dis- 
cern two men, apparently in earnest conversation. 

Although wayfarers were not usual throughout 
that region at night she would hardly have be- 
stowed more than a passing glance upon the 
strangers, had not one of the men held the other 
by the arm, and pointed meaningly towards the 
Judge’s residence. He patently appeared to be 
urging upon his comrade some action in regard to 
the mansion, while the second fellow hung back 
reluctantly. 

Chip Fogg, though startled and nonplussed, was 
not frightened. She was naturally of a fearless 
disposition; forthwith she determined to fathom 
their intentions. 

‘Those fellows are certainly after something. 
It may be they intend to rob the house. I wonder 
if I can approach near enough to overhear them.” 

There was a hedge fence which extended all 
along the road front of the grounds, and which 
therefore reached beyond the spot where the two 
men had stopped. Passing inside this hedge. Chip 
darted lightly along behind it in their direction. 


212 


FOGG^S FERRY 


Before she could reach them, however, she heard 
footsteps upon the road, and upon peering 
through the leafy fence saw one of the men pass 
her. 

In consequence of this she turned and retraced 
her steps noiselessly, keeping pace with the man. 
The latter moved slowly, as if wearied, or more 
probably timid and reluctant. Arrived finally at 
the entrance gate, he paused to reconnoitre. Chip 
now took a careful observation of the man, ending 
suddenly with a spring forward to him, and a cry 
of astonishment: 

^Why, Pop, what brings you here at this time 
of night?’’ 

Mr. Fogg, for he it was, looked a trifle confused 
for an instant when the sudden apparition of his 
little daughter confronted him. But he recovered 
in a moment, and slowly replied: 

^^Exercise. Health. Understand?’^ 

^‘Five miles after supper for health. That’s a 
healthy walk. Daddy. I am afraid I don’t quite 
understand. Whom were you talking to just now 
up the road?” 

The old man rubbed his chin in an embarrassed 
way, and eyed her furtively. 

^^Did ye see him?” 


CHIP RECEIVES AN OFFER 


213 


‘^Yes, I could see him from here. But I couldn’t 
tell who he was. I didn’t even know you.” 

“Um! Well, Chip, that ’ere feller was jist a 
feller I happened to meet. Tramp, I reckon.” 

Fogg’s daughter threw a quick and doubtful 
glance at him, but made no answer. He con- 
tinued: 

^^I’m here on business.” 

^With the Judge?” inquired Chip, looking at 
him steadily. 

With some reluctance he replied: 

^^No; I came to see Mr. Rawdon.” 

^^How could you know he was here?” 

^^He sent for me.” 

^Well, Father, I think the less business you 
transact with Bruce Rawdon the better. But it’s 
none of my business, your business — that is,” she 
added, with a sudden impulse, ‘‘unless he talks to 
you about me. For, Daddy, I want you to under- 
stand that I’d rather die right here and now than 
marry that man. I just won’t do it !” 

Mr. Fogg held out his arms with a beaming 
look. 

“You needn’t, darter, for me. Understand? I 


214 


FOGCS FERRY 


don^t like him no better nor you do. Howsomevef, 
I don^t reckon it’s that.” 

^Well, never mind Mr. Rawdon, then. I’m right 
glad to see you once more, Pop. You call back 
the happy old days at the ferry to me.” 

^‘Them was purty good times, Chip,” the father 
spoke, taking her by both hands and chuckling. 

The girl smilingly assented, then looking seri- 
ous, added: 

^^Maybe they’ll soon come back to me again.” 

^Why, Chip!” he cried, staring at her, ‘^you don’t 
mean as you’d ever go for to come home again?” 

She shook her head slowly. 

^^Oh, I don’t know. Daddy. Learning’s more up- 
hill and stony to climb than the old river bank, 
steep as that was.. Sometimes I fall to thinking 
about the clear, quiet river, and our bracing 
mountain air, and that shaggy old pig of ours — 
how is 1he old hog, Pop?” 

Fogg laughed heartily, and she joined in his 
mirth. 

^^Hearty as a buck. Chip.” 

^Well, give her my love when you see her again. 
And then. Daddy, to remember paddling about in 
your bare feet— oh, it was glorious, with nothing 


CHIP RECEIVES AN OFFER 


215 


in the world to make you blue — exceptin’ mam- 
my’s jaw! How is mom, Dad?” 

Mr. Fogg groaned slightly. ' 

^^She’s hearty as a buck, too!” 

“Yes,” the girl commented grimly. “She always 
is. Well, give her my love, too. She was always 
a little rough on me. Pop; you know that. But 
she’s the only mother I ever had, and I like to 
make the best of things. You can’t always ar- 
range matters just as you want ’em. Father, and 
sometimes I get to feeling that I’d like to throw 
up my job for a bad one, and strike straight back 
to the ferry.” 

Here Miss Chip paused to take breath, looked 
solemnly at her parent, and in an impressive tone, 
added : 

“Daddy, take my advice: Don’t you ever try to 
be a lady!” 

The ferryman appeared very much affected by 
the girl’s admonition. He grasped his child by the 
hand, and replied solemnly: 

“Chip, I won’t! There’s my hand. But now I 
reckon I’d better be hunting up Mr. Kawdon.” 

“Very well. Father. But mind you don’t forget 
my caution. Be careful what you have to do or 
to say with that young man,” 


216 


FOGG^S FERRY 


^‘Don’t you never worrit about me, child. I^m 
more nor seven,” was Mr. Fogg^s return, as he 
started to leave. After he had gone a step or two 
he came back to her, and added confidentially: 
^^Aheml Have you any odd change about your 
pockets. Chip? I may want to stop at the store on 
my way home, for — for dry goods.” 

The girl laughed a little, though her manner of 
looking at him was serious, too, and she shook her 
curly head warningly. 

afraid iFs wet goods. Pop.” As she spoke, 
she brought forth, taking it from the corner of a 
handkerchief, a coin, which she gave him, saying 
further: ^‘But you are welcome to all of my cap- 
ital — a quarter.” 

^‘Bless you — bless you, darter,” the ferryman 
muttered, as he grasped the money; ^‘heaven bless 
you, and — and raise your wages.” 

With which friendly wish he shambled away in 
the direction of the homestead. 

The ferry girl followed him thoughtfully with 
her eyes. 

^‘Have a care. Father Fogg,” she murmured 
softly. “I’m afraid you may go to the bad if you 
don’t mind!” 


CHIP RECEIVES AN OFFER 


217 


She turned with a sigh before leaving, to in- 
dulge in a farewell survey of the public road, 
when with a surprised start she found herself face 
to face with a rough-looking man who had noise- 
lessly come upon her, forcing from her the invol- 
untary exclamation: 

'^Oh, Golly 


CHAPTER XIX. 


MR. FOGG ACCEPTS A COMMISSION. 

Fogg slouched very slowly up the path leading 
to the mansion, much as if he disliked the under- 
taking he had entered upon; though truth to teli, 
he as yet possessed no inkling of the duties Mr. 
Rawdon required of him. Shortly after his en- 
counter with Bolter upon the float that morning, 
and their return to the cabin, a messenger had ^de- 
livered him a note from Rawdon, which merely 
requested him to meet the writer at Judge Nor- 
wood’s house that evening, on business of advan- 
tage to himself. 

Bolter was present when the missive was given 
to Fogg, and its contents were discussed with 
Mrs. Fogg in his presence. 

“Just you go, Zeb,” was his advice; “there may 
be something in it for you. And I’ll tell you what; 
I’ll walk over to the Jedge’s with you. You know 
I was goin’ to the pesky place this evenin’ any 
way. And while you’re talkin’ to this Rawdon, 
you mought drop a sorter hint to the young feller 

that if he should need a able-bodied buffer to help 
(218) 


MR. FOGG ACCEPTS A COMMISSION 219 


along — one you know as don’t bluff — ^you can put 
your paw on one pretty handy.” 

So it was arranged, and the two men had come 
to Norwood together, and of course it was Bolter 
whom Chip had perceived standing upon the rise 
with her father. 

As Fogg approached the mansion he found 
Bruce Rawdon awaiting him, and Blanche about 
to disappear through the hall door. 

^^So you are here at last, old man,” said Rawdon 
effusively, as the ferryman came up. ‘^Come and 
sit dowm here.” 

He crossed to one of the rustic benches as he 
said this, and Fogg, obeying his invitation, they 
both seated themselves. Then ensued a brief in- 
terval of silence, the elderly man waiting, and his 
companion appearing to ponder how to commence. 

‘^How’s my friend, the old woman?” the young 
man at length politely inquired. 

^^You didn’t send for me to ask that, I reckon. 
But Mrs. F.’s all right — she allers is,” was the 
curt rejoinder. 

^^Yes. She must be a great comfort in cold 
weather; eh, old man? — makes things warm, don’t 
she?” 


220 


FOGG^S FERRY 


There was no reply. Rawdon’s hearer evidently 
did not appreciate such jesting. 

^^Your little daughter is doing famously here. 
You wouldnT know her, she has so improved.” 

just now saw her at the gate,” the other an- 
swered dryly, “and I knowed her all right.” 

“Where do you say you saw her?” 

“At the gate, I tell you. She’s there now. But, 
I say, what made you send for me to-night? It’s 
a long ways back to the ferry, you know, and we’re 
losin’ wallyble time.” 

“I know. But I intend to pay you well for your 
valuable time, as well as for what you do. But,” 
— and here he turned, and eyed the ferryman 
keenly — “while upon the subject of Chip, will you 
answer a plain question plainly?” 

“I’m a werry plain man, Mr. Rawdon — so’s Mrs. 
F.” 

“Well, then, Zebulon Fogg, tell me this: Is 
Chip Fogg your daughter?” 

The unexpected interrogation made Fogg 
start perceptibly. He rapidly controlled himself, 
however, and calmly rejoined: 

“You don’t suppose, I reckon, as Chip’s my 
mother, or my sister, do you? In course she’s my 


MR. FOGG ACCEPTS A COMMISSION 221 


darter and heir. Mine and Mrs. F.^s. What made 
you ask that, Mr. B. Rawdon?^’ 

^‘It appears to me that I once heard that you 
had adopted her,’^ was the careless return. ^‘But 
we will allow Chip to rest. I’ll tell you for what 
I had you come here. I have some work cut out 
for you. It is merely a small job, and one which 
you can readily accomplish; and there will be 
money in it, my boy. Are you willing?” 

^^I’ve got nothin’ agin nothing with money in 
it, understand.” 

^Must at present all I wish of you is to take 
close note of the lay of the land, and then make 
yourself scarce for an hour or two. After the 
family have retired you will return here to meet 
me.” 

The ferryman shook his head dubiously. 

^^Better you let me know what’s up at once. 
First place, understand as I don’t do nothin’ agin 
Chip. Blood’s blood, if I does say so.” 

Rawdon laughed sneeringly as he replied: 

^^Don’t you try the affectionate parent dodge 
with me, Zeb. You and Miss Chip do not owe 
each other much.” 

^^Don’t I know it, Mr. Rawdon? Our progeny’s 
ungrateful, they is. We toils for ’em, and brings 


222 


FOGG^S FERRY 


’em up, and then, what? They jist walks off and 
leaves us, so they does. But I’ve still got a heart 
for my little Chip.” 

Here the speaker passed his sleeve across his 
eyes, probably with some real, rather than pre- 
tended emotion. 

^^Now, don’t snivel, old man,” Rawdon rejoined 
coldly. ^^Look you. You consider me a gentle- 
man, I suppose?” 

The other man nodded, 
tip-topper, like myself.” 

^‘Suppose then, I should conclude to marry Chip. 
As my wife she would be rated a lady, would she 
not?” 

“In course. A slap-up out and outer.” 

“Now, Fogg, pay attention. I want to wed your 
girl, and I intend to do so. But the marriage will 
depend somewhat upon your work to-night. 
There is locked up in the Judge’s safe in the li- 
brary a very important document — his wife’s will, 
in short. I happen to be aware that this paper 
leaves all of the deceased mother’s fortune, which 
was quite extensive, to her daughter.” 

“I see. To Miss Blanche.” 

The younger man looked keenly at the speaker, 
then with meaning emphasis continued: 


MR, FOGG ACCEPTS A COMMISSION m 


said, to her daughter. This safe is an old- 
fashioned affair, with a lock that can readily be 
opened. As a matter of fact I have already made 
an impression of it, and had a duplicate key pro- 
cured.’’ 

“Mr. B. Bawdon,” queried Mr. Fogg, in a tone 
that implied wonder, “I’d like to ask what’s this 
here will to you?” 

“I may answer that later. I do desire it, and 
that is sufficient.”. 

“Well, and what do you want me to do?” 

“Simply to break into this house to-night!” 

“Christopher Columbus!” ejaculated the old 
ferryman, starting to his feet. “Don’t ask me. I 
aren’t got the nerve!” 

“Sit down, man. You wouldn’t talk of nerve if 
you understand what I require of you. In the 
first place you will not incur one iota of risk. The 
whole burglary, as a matter of fact, is to be a 
sham.” 

“Sham! Dogged if I understand what you’re 
driving at, Mr, Kawdon.” 

“I will try to make it clear, Fogg. You are sim- 
ply to do as I direct. Return here to this spot a 
little after nine o’clock, as the household keep 
country hours, and will have retired. Watch for 


224 


FOGG’S FERRY 


a light in my window there above the verandah. 
This will be your signal. As soon as you see it, 
approach very noiselessly to the steps yonder, and 
wait for me to hand you the document. That pa- 
per you must guard at every hazard. I will have 
the safe open, and papers scattered around the 
floor, as if there had been a real robbery. As 
soon as you receive the will, make off with it as 
rapidly as you possibly can, and preserve it safely 
for me until we meet. You had better raise an 
alarm as you leave, as I want everybody aroused, 
and it will make the break-in look like the real 
thing. Have you a pistol?” 

^‘No. Never owned one,” Fogg replied, with a 
shake of the head. 

Rawdon drew from a pocket a small firearm. 

“Take this, then, and fire a shot or two as you 
disappear.” 

Mr. Fogg drew back in awe. 

“No, you do the firing, and I’ll do the running 
all right.” 

“Don’t be a fool, man,” pursued Rawdon, forc- 
ing the weapon upon his timid companion. “I tell 
you that I’ll see that you are not followed. Do as 
I desire, and I will pay well.” 


MR. FOGG ACCEPTS A COMMISSION 225 


The ferryman took the revolver and placed ik 
in the pocket of his jacket, muttering; 

“No risk. Big pay. Beckon I^m fitted.’^ 

“You understand, I see,” commented Rawdon. 
“Now leave, but you can come back in a couple of 
hours, or even less. No, don’t take the path,” he 
added, as Mr. Fogg started down the main exit. 
“Cut across the lawn to the stable gate. I prefer 
that you do not meet Chip again.” 

“Just as you say, B. Rawdon. I’ll be here on 
hand by the time you need me.” 

With the words he started across the sward 
towards the stables. Rawdon stood watching the 
shambling, shabby figure of the old man as it lum- 
bered off in the gloom. 

“Suppose, after all, I should be mistaken in my 
suspicions !” he muttered. “Ah, well, the stake is 
worth the game!” 

Finally, he shrugged his shoulders, shook him- 
self slightly, and quietly sought the path which 
led to the turnpike. 


CHAPTEK XX. 


GATHERING CLOUDS. 

As Chip turned and encountered the man at her 
elbow, she found herself yis-a-vis with a tough- 
looking citizen at least to meet in the dark. 
Wrapped to the chin in a rough great coat, sur- 
mounted by a rusty hat, drawn down almost to 
his eyes, and wearing a matted beard that con- 
cealed his nether countenance, he forced upon the 
girl the impression that there stood before her an 
incarnation of shagginess. 

She recoiled in some alarm with the exclama- 
tion that broke involuntarily from her lips. Then 
she added, in a tone that he overheard: ^^A regu- 
lar old grizzly!’’ 

A not uncongenial smile overspread the seamed 
countenance of the intruder, and there was in his 
rather watery eyes a reassuring twinkle, which 
served to mitigate in a great degree the girl’s per- 
turbation. 

^'Don’t you bluff, my purty,” he growled hoarse- 
ly, rather than spoke. know as I look pesky 

like a big b’ar to ye, but I don’t bite, only in open 
( 226 ) 


GATHERING CLOUDS 


227 


fight, and not with gals even then. Why I never 
in all my born days so much as struck a squaw.” 

“There’s no squaws here,” the girl answered 
pertly. “What are you after?” 

“I’m here on business,” was the prompt rejoin- 
der. “That is, if it falls out as I find the right 
party to do business with.” 

Chip threw a dubious glance upon him, not de- 
void of disdain. 

“He’s a big no good tramp, he is,” she thought. 
“I’ll scare him off.” Then, slightly tilting her hat 
over her eyes, she advanced upon him, and waved 
him away with her finger, as she added aloud: 
“Here, now, get out of this. Mizzle! Mosey off! 
Trail away, my man! I’m on to your little game.” 

The party so unceremoniously addressed, in- 
stead of being impressed by the girl’s words, burst 
into a hearty, chuckling, amused fit of laughter, 
which he continued till the tears appeared. He 
finally sobered himself sufficiently to say to her: 

“You can’t do it, little ’un. I know the game 
you’re up to, but’ twon’t work with me. I don^t 
bluff, I don’t.” 

Speaking these words, he retreated to the front 
gate, and indulged in a careful survey of the pike. 
Miss Chip watched him dubiously, with the half- 


228 


FOGCS FERRY 


formed idea of beating an inglorious retreat 
while the man’s back was turned. But there was 
a vein of audacity underlying the young lady’s 
composition; and besides there was something in 
Bolter’s manner which portended a purpose in 
accosting her; and she had a natural curiosity to 
learn what his mission with her imported. 

She therefore did not run away, but seated her- 
self, somewhat gingerly it is true, upon the edge 
of the seat under the tree. With an air of earnest- 
ness mantling his bronzed features Mr. Bolter 
came back to her, saying: 

‘^I’m here to do business with the right party, so 
I am, pardner; and see here, lessen I’m shootin’ 
wild you’re the ’dentical game I’m arter.” 

^^Me! Are you making game of me?” 

^Well, I’m not pokin’ fun, if that’s what you 
mean. Blow me for a digger, if you ben’t the 
werry gal as I’ve trailed many a long mile to 
meet. Mightn’t your name be Fogg?” 

^Wes, my name is Fogg — Chip Fogg,” was the 
prompt rejoinder. 

He laughed again, internally and without noise, 
as he went on: 

^Well, you don’t be adzackly a chip of the old 
block, Zeb; but never mind. Only to think of you 


GATHERING CLOUDS 


229 


being here!’’ He glanced up towards the house 
as he spoke. ^^Here, of all places. It do beat 
natur. And this is whar Bob Norwood’s squatted, 
too, I larn. Nice place it is fer a fact. Lucky 
cove. Bob. Always was. Howsomever, he didn’t 
lush like some of us.” 

The man appeared to be wrapped in his 
thoughts, ignoring the presence of Chip. She re- 
called him by pertly inquiring: 

‘What’s all this to me, Grizzly?” 

He came to attention, and turned once more to 
her: 

“To you! Why, tarnal airth, little gal, now I 
looks at you close, I see plain you’re the clean 
pictur of — ” 

He checked himself abruptly, without complet- 
ing the sentence. 

The girl sprang up, looking him straight in the 
eye. 

“Of whom? I’m not ashamed of my face. Talk 
out, please.” 

He laughed again. 

“No, nor you shouldn’t be, nuther. ’Cause it’s 
a purty one. But my tongue goes waggin’ a leetle 
too loose like. I axes manners. When the time 
comes to talk I kin talk, and things I have got to 


230 


POGCS PERRV 


say mought consarn you deep. Do you hear?— 
DeepT’ 

Again he indulged in a careful survey of the 
vicinage to satisfy himself of the absence of an 
eavesdropper, and then bending over her added 
in a low, cautious tone: 

^^But this here garden jest now are not the 
time, nor nuther the place.” 

Chip eyed him sharply for an interval, as if to 
gather the meaning of his last sentence, after 
which she asked: 

“Where is the time and the place?” 

Mr. Bolter constantly appeared to dread ob- 
servation, and was once more peering about. And 
yet, with all his care, he failed to perceive a figure 
which had stolen up under cover of the trees and 
shrubbery, from the direction of the mansion, and 
now stood, concealed by a heavy bush, within lis- 
tening distance. 

“Now, look here, little un,” finally continued 
Bolter, “sharings allers the squar thing with a 
pard. That make matters up and up and agree- 
able like, and better all round for both of us. 
Now if I prospect a rich find for you, do you see, 
and put you where you’re sure to strike it big, it’s 
only fair and the right thing for me to have a 


GATHERING CLOUDS 


231 


shovel or two of pay dirt myself. Ain’t that the 
ticket?” 

reckon you are right. Though I must say I 
don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

The man laughed. 

‘^Not yet, in course. You will, though; but not 
till the time comes. You see. Miss, I’ve got to 
keep shady. I oughtn’t to be here now, and I 
mustn’t stay any longer. So if you want to know 
what I kin tell you consarnin’ yourself; and mind 
you it’s something as’ll make them big eyes of 
your’n grow bigger’n saucers; you come down to 
the river to-morrow just as the sun drops aliind 
the hills, and meet me at McComb’s old mill.” 

He spoke almost in a whisper, bending over 
her until his face nearly touched hers. Chip re- 
coiled slightly, startled and even alarmed at the 
man’s earnest manner. Her reply was: 

^^Oh, no. You’ll have to excuse me. Grizzly. 
You don’t catch this chicken down at that lone- 
some mill with an old buffalo like you.” 

Jim Bolter eyed the girl earnestly, but with a 
somewhat amused expression. When he spoke it 
was very gently. 

^^See here, now, little un. Don’t you go and be 
so foolish as to mistrust me,” 


232 


FOGCS FERRY 


He removed his hat at the words, and raised his 
hand as he impressively added: 

^^For I swear I means you nothin’ but good!” 

Miss Chip faced him squarely, gazing searching- 
ly into his eyes, an inspection which he met with- 
out blanching. She read in his gaze a reassuring 
honesty, and without further hesitation gave him 
her hand as she cried fearlessly: 

believe yon. Grizzly. I think you must know 
something about me, and I want so much to learn 
what I can about myself. So, old man, I give you 
my word that I’ll be on hand.” 

He laughed again with that peculiar, almost 
noiseless, internal snicker, which however was 
hearty enough to shake his portly form. 

knowed you would. I knowed you was true 
grit if you be little. All right, you come. Just 
you come and play squar with me, and you’ll see 
what I’ll do for you. There’s money and there’s 
name awaitin’ on you, and lots of things you don’t 
even dream on. And that’s what I’m goin’ to do 
for you, and me no witch, nuther.” 

^^Money! Name!” the girl repeated. “Mr. Griz- 
zly, what does that mean?” After a momentary 
puzzled thought she eagerly continued: “Tell me 
one thing: Is not Mammy Fogg my mother?” 


GATHERING CLOUDS 


233 


Mr. Bolter indulged in another of his inward 
chuckles as he shook his head. 

^^Slow, my gal, slow. A waitin’ chase is allers 
the sartainest trail in the end. All I says here is 
just you be at that old mill on time, and you won’t 
be disapp’inted. Now you’d better run in the 
house. I’ve got to be movin’.” 

He turned and w^alked to the gate, with his roll- 
ing gait, something like that of an old salt. Chip 
standing like a statue, staring longingly aftet 
him. At the exit from the grounds he faced about, 
and gave way to another of his inaudible fits of 
laughter. After this he removed his hat wdth a 
sweeping gesture, and uttered the farewell words: 

“Sundown, mind. McComb’s mill. Good even- 
in’.” 

Keplacing his hat he then stalked up the turn- 
pike in the direction from whence he had come. 

Chip remained following his disappearing fig- 
ure with a puzzled expression. 

“My head spins round like a mill wheel,” she 
finally said. “What can he have meant? He may 
tell me I’m not myself. Wouldn’t it be funny to 
find that I w^ere somebody else? I might not like 
that somebody else as well as I do myself. I mean 
me as I am now.” 


234 


FOGG'S FERRY 


Giying up the conundrum as hopeless she 
wheeled about to return to the house, when she 
was considerably startled to find at her elbow a 
listener. 

She became reassured, however, upon recogniz- 
ing Bruce Rawdon, looking suave and smiling. 

He had of course followed in the direction he 
had seen Chip pursue, and had come upon the 
girl and Mr. Bolter in the midst of their interview, 
without attracting their attention; and had not 
scrupled to creep up under cover in an endeavor 
to overhear their conversation. Miss Fogg had at 
first started back with an exclamation of alarm. 

“You need not be frightened. Miss Chip,” the 
young man said. “I trust I have not interfered 
with your appointment.” 

This with a sneering emphasis upon the last 
word. 

“WhaCs that?” Chip exclaimed sharply. 

“Don’t flare up. I have not come to find fault, 
but rather to apologize. I suppose you have felt 
nettled with me at my not noticing you since I 
came here, but there were reasons. Jealous eyes 
have been constantly upon me — upon us. You 
know whose. This is about the first opportunity 
I have had to speak freely to you. It is a genuine 


gathering clouds 




pleasure to be able to say that I feel proud of you, 
Chip; I positively do. You have improved wonder- 
fully in the last four months. You show a breed- 
ing very far beyond the menial position you oc- 
cupy here. 

The girl’s cheeks fairly flushed scarlet as she 
retorted hotly: 

^That^s more than you do, Mr. Eawdon. I am 
not a menial, and you have no right to apply such 
an epithet to me. I work, but that is no disgrace.’’ 

^^Be careful. Chip. You cannot afford to antag- 
onize me. I might retort in a way that you would 
not relish.” 

“What do I care for your retorts?” she sullenly 
replied. 

“You may if you realize what they mean. A 
man doesn’t require a grizzled beard to know your 
past.” 

“What do you know of my past?” 

“It may be enough to drive you from this house 
in shame.” 

Miss Chip whirled upon the speaker like a young 
tigress, her eyes ablaze. 

“You do not! You will not dare to say I ever 
even thought a thing of shame. You cannot name 
an act of mine I would care to conceal. If you do, 


236 


FOGCS FERRY 


Bruce Rawdon, I mean if you try to, you will sim- 
ply lie!’^ 

He smiled, answering coolly: 

“You are right. Chip. I have nothing to say 
against you personally. But misfortune is often 
worse than guilt with the world, and disgrace fre-^ 
quently the lot of innocence. I might reveal 
something in your past, not your fault, I admit, 
which would banish you from this house forever.” 

“Then, you coward, speak if you will,” she re- 
turned; “speak, and I will go. It seems to me my 
life has been low enough and hard enough. I have 
tried to rise. I have worked steadily for two years 
to improve myself. I think I have risen! And 
now you, Mr. Rawdon, threaten to drive me back 
to my old life. Oh, Bruce Rawdon, don’t you feel 
noble fighting a girl like me?” 

Despite an assumed nonchalance;, Rawdon 
looked a little uncomfortable under the searching 
and earnest glances of the ferry girl. 

“I merely gave you a hint of what I might say, 
Chip,” he answered in a much more gentle tone. 
“But I have not said I would.” 

She stood a moment as if digesting his meaning, 
then cried impulsively: 

“Then do not! I can’t even guess at what you 


GATHERING CLOUDS 


237 


may know, or see how it can bear so hard upon 
me; but, Mr. Rawdon, don^t you drive all the sun- 
shine out of my life! You would surely not sleep 
more soundly after such an act.” 
t Chip was so earnest in her appeal that uncon- 
sciously she fell to her knees, extending her hands 
with an appealing gesture. 

This attitude was pretty and engaging, and like- 
wise touching; and Bruce Rawdon was really 
moved by her distress. He bent over her eagerly, 
seized both her hands impulsively in his, and then 
responded rapidly and impulsively: 

^‘You must not kneel to me. Chip. Suffer me, if 
any one, to be the suppliant. Have you forgotten 
my words at the ferry? They were not idle 
breathings, but came, sincere and straight from 
the depths of a heart that beats for you. For you. 
Chip, you only! When you were but a child I 
loved you from the time I first saw you. I loved 
you still more as the budding girl I spoke to; and 
now I love you, the young woman, stronger and 
better than ever!” 

As the import of Rawdon^s fiery words gradu- 
ally dawned upon the girl. Chip sprang to her feet, 
and stood gazing at the speaker, momentarily 
stricken dumb by surprise and indignation. And, 


238 


FOGCS FERRY 


before she had sufficiently recovered herself to 
reply, a figure had stepped between them, utter- 
ing coldly and cuttingly the words : 

^‘What am I to understand from this, Bruce 
Rawdon?” 

The newcomer was Blanche Norwood. 

As Blanche ceased speaking Chip instantly 
turned and faced that irate young lady, whose 
eyes were not directed towards the gentleman 
she had addressed, but instead were levelled 
point-blank at the ferry girl. Straightaway the 
remembrance that this was the first time they 
had encountered each other fiashed upon Chip. 
They had had other meetings, but at these any 
latent hostility had been kept under. The ferry 
girl appeared firm and fearless as she met Miss 
Norwood’s baleful glance. Blanche’s face looked 
pale, her eyes held a furious fire which Miss Fogg 
readily understood, and which certainly contra- 
dicted her subdued tone. Chip, of course, had 
never seen a volcano, but she knew of them from 
reading, and the expression upon Miss Norwood’s 
face made her think of one. She realized that 
war was declared. She felt instinctively that her 
days at Norwood were numbered, if not virtually 
ended. 







CHAPTER XXI. 


BANISHED. 

Mr. Bruce Rawdon, though an extremely young 
gentleman, had the self-possession of a veteran 
in general; but on the present occasion even he 
was for the moment overwhelmed with confusion. 
He gasped the name of the girl, ‘^Blanche with 
an added something between his teeth that 
sounded like ^^Damnation!’^ then with an attempt 
at rallying, stammered: 

^^Blanche, appearances may seem — that is may 
look — but we — ^you — I can explain.^^ 

Miss Norwood’s blazing eyes turned from Chip 
upon him, as she interrupted: 

^Tshaw! Don’t be a sneak. There is nothing 
to explain. It is all plain enough. You love her, 
and she you, I suppose. . How can she help it? So 
handsome — so noble! So true! And you. Miss, 
do pray give him his answer at once. Don’t let 
me be a constraint.” 

^^You needn’t strain yourself upon my account. 
Miss Norwood,” was the governess’ rather pert 


( 241 ) 


FOGG'S FERRY 


2421 

rejoinder, as Chip threw herself upon a rustic 
seat, turning her back to the others. 

^‘Will you explain?^’ said Blanche, moving over 
towards her. 

^^You have just said there was nothing to ex- 
plain. But ask Mr. Rawdon. He’s good at telling 
stories. 

Blanche looked at the young man, 

^^Bruce, you can leave us. You and I will have 
opportunity to discuss the affair later.’’ 

Rawdon, after a slight hesitation, bowed to her, 
and walked to the house, with as much noncha- 
lance as he could muster. The girl stood motion- 
less as a statue, following his movements with 
her eyes until he disappeared, when she turned 
like a tigress to the sitting figure beside her, and 
bent over her like a storm cloud. 

^^You were predestined to cross me, you ferry 
creature. I hated you always — yes, even before T 
saw you. He lied to you when he said he loved 
you; and I know you do not care for him. And 
still I hate you — do you hear? I hate you!” 

In a species of frenzy, she gripped the smaller 
girl’s arm viciously. Chip sprang up, and shook 
her off. 

“Don’t you lay your hand upon me!” 


BANISHED 


243 


^^You needn^t fear. But go away. You^re in 
danger here.” 

''Go! To-night?” 

^‘Yes. To-night. At once. You are not afraid 
of your shadow in the moonlight, I presume. I 
will have your luggage sent after you.” 

^^Suppose I refuse?” 

^A"ou dare not. I would have you discharged in 
disgrace.” 

Chip turned upon the speaker proudly, as slie 
replied: 

^^Oh, no; you would not. Discharge me you may, 
but disgrace me you cannot.” 

Ignoring the point. Miss Norwood demanded: 

^Tor the last time, will you go?” 

<^For you, no!” was the answer. ‘^But for the 
sake of the kind old man who has befriended me — 
to spare 3^our father pain, Miss Norwood — I will 
not create dissension between you. I will go.” 

^^And when you go, better for both of us that we 
never meet again. Let this parting be forever.” 

She moved away as she finished the bitter 
words, and swept up the path to the mansion with 
a stately grace. Ascending the steps, she paused 
before opening the door, and glanced back at the 
motionless figure she had left, as if intending to 


244 


FOGG^S FERRY 


saj more. But, if so, she reconsidered, and en- 
tered the house without further remark. 

Poor little Chip remained staring after her long 
after her disappearance, before she gave voice to 
her thoughts and feelings. 

knew it must come. Must I tramp back to 
that dreadful ferry again? What else is there for 
me? I wouldn^t break down before her, but now, 
oh, what shall I do?’^ 

She paused, looking straight ahead as if for an 
answer, then cast herself into the seat again, 
moaning: 

wish I was dead!” 

Following which she relieved herself in the 
manner characteristic of all of Eve’s daughters 
since the time of Adam. She sobbed convulsively. 
This prevented her from noticing the house door 
open, and the entrance upon the scene of a some- 
what uncouth and unattractive member of the 
same sex. It was her mother. 

It was now quite dark under the trees, and in 
the shadow of the house, and the old woman stum- 
bled as she descended the steps, with a muttered 
curse upon what she called her luck. Then, look- 
ing around, she called; 


BANISHED 


245 


‘^Chip! Wherever is the brat? They said she 
was out here.’’ 

The daughter rose, stifled her tears, and came 
out into the moonlight, so as to be visible. 

^Wou’re there, are you? It’s so pesky dark I 
kin hardly see. Your cubs is asleep. I talked 
sweet to ’em, so as to make the Judge ginerous; 
and I didn’t cackle for nothin’. Basket full of 
good things, and an overcoat for Zeb.” She ex- 
hibited her spoils as she spoke. Poor Chip was in 
no mood to sympathize with her mother’s exulta- 
tion, and fell back into her seat, moaning: 

^^Oh, Mammy! Mammy!” 

‘What are you whinerin’ about?” cried the old 
woman, sulkily. “Don’t like me to beg, eh? Well, 
I don’t like a whinerer nuther. Chip, eddicashun’s 
hifalutin’ you. I ain’t no millyunair. I don’t own 
no iron mines, my lady.” 

“If that were all!” sobbed the child, whom the 
heartless words of her scheming parent but 
served to make more desolate. 

“All!” grumbled the other. “It’s enough. I’m 
wore to a shadder. And I ain’t going to take no 
back talk, nuther.” 

The only occasion for this latter sentiment was 
an appealing gesture. 


POGG'S FERRV 


S46 

^^Shet up! And just you let me git in a word 
edgeways. Let B. Kawdon alone. He^s arter 
Blanche, and you let him have her. You go for 
that White feller. He’s goin’ to be the jedge’s 
pardner, and’ll make money. Good match for you, 
gal.” Then she added, sotto voice, hate him. 
I wants to be his mother-in-law!” 

Scarcely hearing her mother, and certainly not 
heeding her words. Chip broke in with a somewhat 
startling query: 

^^Mammy, the day I left the ferry to come here, 
do you remember Mr. Rawdon saying you were not 
my mother?” 

Mrs. Fogg turned savagely on the girl, fairly 
shouting: 

^^He’s a lying fool! If I ain’t your mar, whose 
mar be I?” 

As this was certainly a poser, poor little Chip 
could only sob: 

^^Give it up!” 

^Well,” said the old woman, perceiving that her 
daughter was silenced, ^H’ll mosey along home, 
seein’s Zeb’s left me to go it alone. Oh, here’s 
that song that White writ, and you wanted me to 
bring you.” She handed her a roll taken from the 
basket. “Larn it. It will make him. soft on you. 


BANISHED 


247 


ill men are fools when they get stuck on gals. 
Now, I’m off. Good-bye, Chip. Don’t forget your 
poor old big-hearted mammy — when your pay day 
comes round.” 

So saying, she strolled down the avenue, either 
not hearing or not heeding her daughter saying: 

^^I’ll go to the gate with you, mother.” 

Mrs. Fogg walked with a masculine stride down 
to the turnpike, and turned in the direction of 
home, without paying the slightest attention to 
Chip, who had followed her, and now stood at the 
fence looking after her, until a rise in the ground 
hid the old woman from view. 

And all the while the girl was thinking: 

cannot go back to her. Back to that low- 
down life that I hoped I had left forever. They 
say the world is wide,” she added thoughtfully. 
^T’ll find a corner in it somewhere. I must get 
ready to leave now.” 

In turning to go back to the house the girl saw’ 
a man climbing the wall of the grounds at some 
distance from her. It was a very strange occur- 
rence in a region where any stranger would be 
made welcome, and the suspicion instantly struck 
her that it must be a thief. Chip was not timid 
bj^ nature, but her recent interview's had been try- 


248 


FOGG'S FERRY 


ing, and she felt more nervous than usual. How- 
ever she determined to watch the fellow, and 
sound the alarm if necessary, and therefore crept 
diagonally under the trees in a direction to inter- 
cept the man as he moved towards the house. 

Although the stranger was walking carefully, 
she could readily hear his footfall as it crushed 
the dry sward, and soon was near enough to see 
him distinctly as he crossed a glade in the moon- 
light, and very much to her astonishment, recog- 
nized him. 

It was her own father! 

She fairly gasped. 

His movements were stealthy, and it was evi- 
dent that he must be bent upon business entirely 
irregular. She wondered what it meant, and un- 
consciously murmured : 

‘^Oh, my poor bad dad!” 

The old man crept up to the house. There was 
a light in a window above, in a room she knew to 
be Kawdon’s. 

The rest of the front part of the mansion was 
dark, as the family were at supper in the rear. 

Fogg took up a handful of sand from the path, 
and tossed it against the lighted window. This 


BANISHED 


249 


was at once cautiously opened, and Mr. Eawdon 
looked down. 

^^Is it you, Fogg?^’ he asked. 

‘‘IFs me,” was the answer; ‘^and as a high-toned 
American gentleman I don’t like it. I’m not no 
night hawk, and stealin’ don’t go down with me 
like a buckwheat cake.” 

^^Be silent, you fool,” was the angry response, 
‘^and wait for me at the parlor window.” 

He closed his own window as he spoke, and then 
his light was extinguished. There was a moment 
of waiting. 

The word ^^stealing” rang in poor Chip’s ears, 
and she crept up close behind the shrinking figure 
of the ferryman. 

In a few moments the window of the parlor 
was cautiously opened, and Eawdon leaned out, 
holding a paper in his hand. Mr. Fogg seemed 
mortally alarmed, and scarcely looked up. His 
confederate noticed his tremor and said: 

^Tshaw, man, don’t be frightened. There’s no 
danger. They are all in the dining ro 4i. All 
you need do is take care of this paper for me. It 
is the will.” 

He reached it out. 

Now, Chip was standing just beneath him, and 


250 


FOGG'S FERRY 


behind her father, unseen in the gloom. She was 
holding in her hand the roll of music she had re- 
ceived from her mother, and on the impulse of the 
moment she forced that into the ferrjman^s hand, 
and quietly received the will from Rawdon. 

All this was so deftly done that the exchange 
would infallibly have escaped detection, had not 
the girl in her excitement cried out: 

'^Run, Daddy!” 

Fogg carried in his hand the pistol given him 
by Rawdon, and it was probably cocked, ready to 
fire, as in his excitement he pulled the trigger, and 
there was a loud explosion. 

He instantly followed this feat by darting off 
towards the road at an astonishing gait. 

Bewildered at what she had done. Chip stood 
hesitating in the moonlight before the house, the 
will unheeded in her hand. There was the sound 
of sudden alarm heard within the house. 

The front door was thrown open almost instant- 
ly, and Rawdon appeared. 

“What is it?” he asked. Then, seeing the girl, 
and noticing the paper in her hand: “Chip! Give 
me that paper.” 

“I will not do it.” She held it behind her. 


MmsHnn %i 

There was now to be heard a rush of feet down 
the hall. 

^^Too late. They are here.” He sprang down 
the steps, hissing as he passed the girl: “You 
have put yourself in a trap!” 

The Judge, his daughter, Gerald White, and 
even Still Bill and Martha came hurrying out, and 
formed a tableau of surprise at seeing Mr. Raw- 
don and the governess. 

“What has happened?” inquired Judge Nor- 
wood. 

Chip stood silent. Rawdon spoke: 

“The house has been robbed. One of the thieves 
fired at me, and has run away. There stands the 
other!” And he pointed at the little governess, 
who seemed bewildered, and still said nothing. 

There was a general cry, “Chip!” 

“I do not believe it.” 

It was the Judge who spoke. 

“Why not?” cried Blanche, fiercely. “I know 
the creature to be capable of anything.” 

“For shame. Miss Norwood,” interrupted Ger- 
ald White, hotly. “If you were a man IM compel 
you to swallow those words. There may have 
been a robbery, but this little girl could not be 
the thief!” 


252 


FOGG'S FERRY 


Everybody looked at both Chip and Rawdon. 
The girl still remained like a statue. 

Mr. Rawdon quickly replied to the implied 
query: 

^Terhaps, Judge, you will believe the evidence 
of your own eyes. You will find your safe has 
been opened, your papers are scattered all over 
the library, and in that girPs hand is the stolen 
will of your wife.’^ 

There was a general sensation. Chip raised the 
will and looked at it as if for the first time com- 
prehending what had been done. 

Judge Norwood turned towards her gravely. 
She met his gaze steadily. 

^Tt is true,” she said to him; ^^the will is here; 
but the thief” — she wheeled suddenly, and point- 
ed at Rawdon — ^fis there!” 

It was very dramatic, but Bruce Rawdon was 
prepared for the accusation, and merely shrugged 
his shoulders and smiled. 

There was a moment’s pause, which was broken 
by Blanche. 

^The thief is the one who has taken the stolen 
article. Father, send the shameless creature 
away.” 

The Judge stood silent. He was turned from 


BANISHED 


253 


the others just then, so that his face could not be 
seen. 

A painful silence that lasted what seemed a 
very lengthy interval, though actually a mere mo- 
ment, was broken by Chip, whose tones sounded 
very pathetic as she appealed to her employer. 

^^Judge Norwood, do you believe me guilty?^’ 

The Judge looked thoughtfully into space 
awhile, before turning to the girl with the words : 

^‘1 think you had better go!” 

The latter staggered back as though struck. It 
was plainly to be seen that the answer was a sur- 
prise. The will escaped from her fingers to the 
ground, and then she, by a strong and, under the 
circumstances, astonishing exertion of will power, 
quietly started away. A restraining hand was 
laid upon her arm, and White pleaded with her: 

^^Stay, Chip.” 

She shook him off fiercely. With a change of 
mood as instantaneous as the rising of a tropical 
tornado, the girl cried: 

^^Let me go — let me go! He has told me to 
leave!” 

And with the words she fled along the path to 
the outer gate with the speed of a hunted hare. 


CHAPTER XXIL 


CHIP MAKES A PKOMISE. 

White’s first impulse was to spring after the 
fugitive. But an inquiring glance towards his em- 
ployer restrained him. The Judge by a hardly 
perceptible motion of the head, gave him to under- 
stand that he desired to speak to him; after 
which, addressing everybody, the old gentleman 
said in a tone of some feeling: 

^This is a matter that I very much regret. We 
had better go in, and I desire that there be no 
discussion of it.” 

The two servants, who had stood near the door, 
which had been left open from the time of gen- 
eral entrance, withdrew at once. Rawdon, with a 
show of ceremony, offered his arm to Blanche, but 
that young lady looked at him in scornful sur- 
prise, and re-entered alone. Mr. Rawdon saun- 
tered after her with an air of unconcern. 

“Judge Norwood,” cried the younger of the two 
remaining gentlemen, “you surely do not believe 
Bruce Rawdon’s preposterous accusation. You 
know Miss Fogg to be incapable of such an act, 

( 254 ) 


CHIP MAKES A PROMISE 


255 


even if she could possibly base a motive for the 
deed.’’ 

‘‘Gerald,” answered the other smiling, ‘‘1 will 
avoid a discussion which would consume valuable 
time, by merely remarking that, strange as it may 
sound, I am not sorry at the turn events have 
taken. Don’t be horrified at my repeating that I 
meant all I said when I told Miss Chip she had 
better go.” 

Judge!” 

‘^Sometime you will agree with me, I think; 
though perhaps not for several years. But we 
lose valuable time. I want you to follow Miss 
Fogg. She has probably gone to Bridgeport, as I 
noticed that she did not take the direction of her 
home. Tell her to stop to-night at the Nashville 
House, and to remain there until I see her in the 
morning.” 

^^But, Judge,” White exclaimed, ‘‘this affair is 
horrible. You must clear the girl. As for Mr. 
Rawdon, I, myself, will settle with him.” 

“My boy,” was the smiling rejoinder, “you will 
do nothing of the kind. You are neither Chip’s 
brother, nor, I believe, even her suitor. And any 
interference from you will tend to bring the girl’s 
name into jeopardy. While I don’t mean to take 


256 


FOGG'S FERRY 


you into my confidence, I will go so far as to as- 
sure you that I do not regard this fracas as an un- 
mitigated misfortune for our little friend. Lose 
no more time, or she may elude you. Take her 
my message, trust to me, and keep all you learn 
or surmise severely to yourself. 

The speaker’s cheerful manner, more than his 
words, reassured his younger friend, and he start- 
ed away briskly to execute his commission. Judge 
Norwood stood watching him till out of sight, 
then slowly entered the house, muttering: 

know I am right. And some day the world 
shall know it also. It may take time, but the 
child is young, and there is no need of haste.” 

Meantime Mr. White moved at a rapid pace up 
the river road, which led to the little hamlet of 
Bridgeport, distant about three miles. The Nor- 
wood residence lay in a considerable bend of the 
stream, so that while it was nearly half a mile 
across the fields from the water, the pike encoun- 
tered its banks either up or down its course before 
going many hundred yards. 

Just beyond the limits of the Judge’s property 
lay a stretch of virgin forest, extending upon both 
sides of the road, and reaching on the right side 
to the river. Here in gone days, before the civil 


CHIP MAKES A PROMISE 


257 


war, had been a saw mill, now abandoned and in 
ruin, but still familiar to everybody in the neigh- 
borhood as McComb’s mill. 

This was the rendezvous appointed for Chip’s 
meeting next day with the man known to her as 
Bolter. 

The great trees threw a dense shadow over the 
portion of the road which lay in this wood, making 
it a fearsome and gloomy spot even for a vigorous 
young fellow like Gerald White. What it must 
have been to the timid young girl fleeing from 
home, and nervous from the trying ordeal she had 
just passed through, made the youth shudder to 
think upon. 

As he advanced White could at length dimly see 
the shadowy mass he knew to be the mill ruins 
murkily outlined against the moonlit waters 
which flowed beside it. Scarcely knowing why, he 
paused and strove to penetrate the shadows 
which environed the old building. It was so dark 
that one’s hand would have literally been invis- 
ible a few inches removed, so that nothing could 
possibly have been discerned except out on the 
silyered waters. 

Gerald White sighed, and slowly moved on. 
After a step or two he stopped again, and once 


258 


POGG'S FERRY 


more surveyed as well as he could the sombre 
structure at the water side. A startling thought 
had crept into his mind. What if the girl had not 
gone to town! What if in the desperation of a 
supposed disgrace, and fearing the scorn of her 
fellows, she had — 

The silvery waves, shimmering like gems 
through the interstices of the giant tree trunks, 
had a fascination even for his unpoetical eyes. 
What might they not have suggested to one 
plunged into the abyss of a hopeless despair? 

He shuddered at the half-formed thought, and 
reflected that if the fear were justified it might 
already be too late! 

Without hesitation now he veered from the di- 
rect course to the village, and plunged into the 
depths of the wood, which was somewhat over- 
grown with underbrush, forming a thicket not 
easy of penetration in the dark, and almost impos- 
sible to see through. About the mill ruins this 
undergrowth was at its densest, but beyond the 
ruins was a worm-eaten wooden wharf, which was 
free of vegetation except for weeds growing in 
the crevices of the boards, and of course objects 
viewed towards the river were plainly to be seen. 

Seated upon a post which had once done duty to 


CHIP MAKES A PROMISE 


259 


receive the cables of landing steamers, White saw 
the object of his quest. 

Her face was turned from him, directed towards 
the river, and she seemed to be gazing thought* 
fully upon the sluggish flow of the waters. 

The girl had not been there very long. When 
she fled impulsively at top speed from her late 
home she had directed her course in an opposite 
direction to the ferry, and with no thought of 
where it led. The Judge’s surmise that she would 
seek an inn in the neighboring village was there- 
fore incorrect. She flew along with no plan for 
the night. As she neared the wood, fatigue, and 
probably awe and a natural timidity, made her at 
first pause, then move on very cautiously. She 
knew the locality of the old mill well, and the 
remembrance that it was here she had appointed 
to meet the grizzled stranger gave it a new inter- 
est in her eyes. 

She stopped running as she came to the place 
whence it was visible, and then the thought 
struck her that, dilapidated as it appeared, it 
might afford her a shelter for the night. She had 
never been far from the ferry, except when she 
came to the Judge’s house to live, and literally 
knew nothing of hotels, Besides in her present 


260 


FOGG'S FERRY 


desolate frame of mind the lonely isolation of the 
ruin was in itself an attraction to the girl. So 
she made her way to the waterside, and had been 
seated only a few moments when she was discov- 
ered by Gerald White. 

The young man did nothing to interrupt her re- 
flections, but quietly looked on, curious to know 
what she intended. He^was not kept long in sus- 
pense. 

Perhaps the swirl of the waters exercised a fas- 
cination over the girl, and suggested an avenue 
of relief from her troubles. The reflection that 
she must henceforth be regarded as a thief, that 
she would be shunned by all as if she were a leper, 
tended to make Chip regard life as not worth liv- 
ing. There appeared to be no future for her now, 
for she was firm in the determination not to re- 
turn to the old life at the ferry. The subtle in- 
fluence which has urged many another to put an 
^ end to the ills of existence, became stronger and 
stronger. To the query, ^What shall I do?” came 
the invariable answer, “Better end it all right 
here!” 

Suddenly she voiced aloud her determination 
with the words : 

“I will!” And sprang up and moved out to the 



“What am I to understand from this, Bruce Rawdon?** 












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CHIP MAKES A PROMISE 


263 


end of the little wharf, where the waters eddied 
strongest about some piles, and as it was the 
former landing for steamboats, was probably of 
considerable depth. 

White bounded to the girFs side instantly, and 
clutched her arm firmly. 

^^Chip!’’ he cried. 

The girl looked up at him quietly. Perhaps she 
was too dazed to wonder at his presence. 

^^What brings you here?’^ was her response. 

‘What rash action is this? What would you do, 
child?’’ 

“I don’t know. Anything to end this misery, I 
reckon. Please let me go.” 

“Little woman,” said the young man, solemnly, 
“yours should be the age for living, not dying. I 
realize your feelings — ^you think you have no 
friends, but you have. You can even count upon 
Judge Norwood, in spite of what has occurred. 
He had some reason for letting you go. In proof 
of what I say, he has sent me after you, directing 
you where to stop, and having me to appoint a 
meeting with him in the morning. As for myself, 
I’ve been but a thoughtless boy, I fear, but now I 
am a man; and I want you to lean on me.” . 

The young fellow drew himself up with a look of 


264 


FOGG^S FERRY 


some pride as he said the words, and his com- 
panion evidently inclined to agree with them, if 
not to literally obey the invitation, for she an- 
swered quite seriously: 

^^Yes, Gerald, you are a man — one that a girl 
can rely upon and trust to the utmost. But what 
can you do for me? I am in a snare, hopeless and 
wretched.” 

She shook with emotion, and unconsciously 
caught for support at an old stanchion which jut- 
ted up at the extremity of the pier. 

^^You shiver,” the youth cried out anxiously. 
‘‘You are cold. Let me wrap you in this.” 

He offered to remove his coat, but Chip stopped 
him. 

“No, Mr. White, I am cold, it is true, but not in 
the way you mean. I remember once when a child 
being lost in the snow, and that I was nearly 
frozen. I was cold then, numbed nearly to the 
death. But I am colder now. My very heart 
seems dead.” 

“Poor child! But you must not give up. ^Tis a 
bad outlook, but not a hopeless one. Judge Nor- 
wood is too shrewd to believe Bruce Rawdon’s pre- 
posterous charge, though for some purpose of his 
own he considers it best to have you out of harm’s 


CHIP MAKES A PROMISE 


265 


way. But he knows the fellow^s talent for lying.’^ 

The girl shook her head despondently. 

“I can see no way out of this. I am grateful to 
you, Gerald White; but you cannot help me. Go 
away. Leave me, and forget me. I will find rest.” 

Chip made another motion towards the water, 
but he held her fast. 

“No, I will not go. I mean to see you through 
your trouble, child.” He hesitated a moment, 
then went on. “We are both over young, perhaps, 
and I did not mean to speak so soon, but the turn 
of events this evening force from me an avowal of 
what you surely have divined.” 

“What do you mean?” 

He bent over her averted face, and said tenderly 
and softly: 

“I mean that you are the dearest little girl to 
me in all the wide world. I mean that I want you 
to promise to become some time my little wife.” 

The girl shook her head with decision. 

“No, no, Gerald. It would never do. It is your 
generous heart that inspires your words. But you 
have a future — you have hopes and prospects, and 
I would only be a clog upon you and upon them. 
How could a young gentleman like you marry an 
outcast like me?” 


266 


FOGG^S FERRY 


White smiled, although he felt very earnest. 

“Yes, I have hopes and prospects, it is true; and 
at present yery little more. I am not even a gen- 
tleman, yet, Chip; but a boy that intends to be- 
come one, if pluck and energy can make me do so. 
Just as you nov^ are a budding woman, who will 
develop into a lady I will some day be proud to 
claim.” 

She turned to him trustfully. 

“And I would be proud to be worthy of you, if I 
had the chance to try. But even in that unlikely 
contingency it would take time — years, perhaps.” 
Something like a smile struggled to the surface as 
she asked: “Will you be willing to wait, Gerald? 
And will you love me then as now?” 

He answered solemnly: 

“Heaven be my judge, Chip — ^yes, and yes.” 

Nestling with an air of perfect trust close be- 
side him. Chip whispered: 

“Then some day I’ll be your little wife.” 

There was a touch of the confiding .child in both 
words and manner. Evidently Mr. White was so 
impressed. He bent over and gently pressed his 
lips to her forehead with an air rather of rever- 
ence than passion. 

“It is difficult to know what our immediate fu- 


tUIP MAKES A PROMISE 


26 ? 


tures will be— we shall learn more to-morrow as to 
yours — but we will wait the outcome with full 
trust in each other. And now let us go. I shall see 
you to a shelter for to-night, and in the morning 
eludge Norwood will call upon you with a settle- 
ment of your accounts. He will also, I think, have 
something to propose in reference to your future, 
and. Chip, you must promise me to do whatever he 
wishes. I know him to be your sincere friend.’^ 

Miss Fogg made no reply, but taking his prof- 
fered arm, accompanied him back to the turnpike, 
and then they followed its western course down 
to the little village of Bridgeport, which they 
reached within the half hour. 

Mr. White escorted Chip to the inn suggested 
by the Judge, and after seeing his charge satisfac- 
torily accommodated, returned rapidly to the Nor- 
wood mansion, where he found that all had retired 
save the family^s head, who was anxiously await- 
ing him. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


love’s young dream. 

The next morning the Judge drove down to the 
hotel where Chip had found shelter, and after a 
long interview with her, left a letter in her charge 
for a business agent in Nashville, sent her bag- 
gage down to the wharf of the town, and that 
evening the girl embarked as a passenger on the 
diminutive packet which plied upon that portion 
of the Tennessee; and the neighborhood of Nor- 
wood knew’ her no more. 

Gerald White had desired to accompany his 
partner on his visit to Chip, but this the Judge 
would not permit. Upon the latter’s return the 
young man hinted for information of the result of 
the conference. The Judge only laughed. 

^Uhip is safe, Gerald,” he said, ‘^and that is all 
you will know of her for many a long day. She 
is at present only a child. When you meet again 
I hope you will find her an accomplished woman. 
That is all the information I will give in regard to 
her, and I must not be questioned. From now on 

her very name is to be a tabooed subject.” 

( 268 ) 


LOVES YOUNG DREAM 


269 


Mr. White laughed, and seemed to acquiesce, 
but he felt somewhat annoyed, and, notwithstand- 
ing his faith in the Judge, a little anxious. He 
made inquiries 'about the girl in Bridgeport, but 
learned nothing except that she had taken the 
passenger packet for some point below. 

An interview with the captain of the boat some 
days later afforded the additional information 
that Miss Fogg had left the steamer at Decatur, 
and taken the train north-bound. White sur- 
mised therefore that Judge Norwood had either 
sent the girl to Nashville, or to some city in the 
North. 

Days passed, and the missing Chip seemed to 
be forgotten. Martha speculated to Bill as to her 
fate, and the gentleman of few words looked sol- 
emn, shook his head, and vouchsafed no remark. 
The next evening, as Still Bill was returning from 
an errand to the village, he was intercepted by a 
grizzled, roughly-attired man, who inquired after 
the little governess. The information he received 
was brief, but to the point, being comprised in 
one word; 

^^Gone!'' 

Bojter hovered about the place several hours 
without discovering any trace of the object of his 


270 


FOGG^S FERRY 


quest. Then he walked down to the ferry, only 
to find Mr. and Mrs. Fogg not merely ignorant of 
their daughters disappearance, but much sur- 
prised at its suddenness and apparent causeless- 
ness. Blanche Norwood made no inquiry about 
the missing teacher. She seemed to have effaced 
the remembrance of her whilom rival from her 
life. If Eawdon felt any curiosity as to Chip^s 
fate he made no sign. The incident of the will 
passed without any further investigation. His 
story was apparently accepted, generally and 
undoubting. 

Poor little Miss Fogg occupied with most of the 
family the position of a fugitive from justice. 

Eawdon returned to his own home after a few 
days. He did not often call upon Blanche after- 
wards, and some months later went to Washing- 
ton in some political capacity, procured through 
the local member of congress, and for several 
years ensuing he spent most of his time in the 
East. He utterly ignored his promise to Blanche, 
and did not speak to the Judge. 

Gerald White returned to his office at the coun- 
ty seat the next day after Chip’s fiight, and 
never returned as a visitor to Norwood for over 
three years^ His name was frequently heard in 


LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM 


271 


connection with some of the most important legal 
contests which the county court was called upon 
to determine, and he was not even unknown in 
the capital of the state. He was in other words a 
rising young lawyer, and was also becoming fa- 
mous politically. 

But the little governess seemed to have gone 
out from his life and his remembrance as com- 
pletely and effectually as from the others’ 
thoughts. 

In the fall the two little pupils of Miss Fogg 
were sent off to a reputable seminary near Colum- 
bia, and remained there, save for their return for 
the summer vacation, year after year. 

Thus, so completely had the ferry girl faded 
from the life of Norwood and its inmates that it 
looked as if the girPs romance were ended in a 
^hnysterious disappearance.” 

The summer days shortened and darkened into 
autumn’s storms. Winter with cold rains and oc- 
casional snows followed, that season the Tennes- 
see river freezing solid, an almost unprecedented 
event so far South. Then came a bright and gen- 
tle spring, and finally another summer, and yet 
there was never any tidings of Chip. 

There was one person who seemed genuinely dis- 


272 


FOGG^S FERRY 


turbed by her unaccountable taking off; and that 
was Still Bill, the good-natured young man of all 
work. He had proposed for her hand, and his at- 
tachment was certainly an unselfish one. He had 
generously given the girl a month to consider his 
offer, and, although she had said that a day or 
two would be sufftcient, the days and the months 
were making into years without any word from 
her. 

Was he to wait forever upon her decision? 
What Mr. Still thought about this delicate ques- 
tion of heart ethics remained buried in his own 
sturdy bosom, for he never spoke save to answer 
questions. BilPs devotion to the absent gover- 
ness was by no means a necessity, as there was 
under the same roof a damsel upon whom his 
manly charms had not been lost. Miss Martha 
Blodgett was a lady who had probably passed a 
little beyond the period when the adjective 
‘‘young” was associated with thoughts of her, 
though she was by no means as yet in the sere and 
yellow of old maidenhood. When Martha experi- 
enced a rebuff from Gerald White, and persuaded 
herself that she had become his mortal foe, she 
was not long in discovering that William Still 
possessed many qualities to endear him to one not 


LOVES YOUNG DREAM 


273 


too finicky in her choice of an affinity, despite the 
fact that he could not talk. As to this latter de- 
fect her Own superabundant skill in the linguistic 
art prevented the gentleman’s reticence from be- 
ing felt as a misfortune. 

One evening during the summer following 
Chip’s going away Mr. William Still was return- 
ing afoot from an errand to Bridgeport, when, 
just as he reached the wooded road opposite the 
ruined mill, he overtook his fellow laborer in the 
Norwood vineyard. Miss Martha Blodgett, stroll- 
ing leisurely along the pike, and also homeward 
bound. If Miss Blodgett was not much surprised 
at the meeting she deserved credit for her powers 
of dissimulation. 

^Well, I never,” she exclaimed, in the tone of a 
stage country maid, ‘fif it ben’t Mr. Still! Where 
on earth are you bound to?” 

^^Home,” was the somewhat matter of fact re- 
sponse. 

"You do say such smart things, William,” the 
damsel went on, with an admiring glance at the 
young man’s impassive countenance. "Your con- 
versation is so — instructive. Wouldn’t you love 
to stroll through the woods?” 


FOGG’S FERRV 


‘2U 

William gazed at her with mild surprise as hd 
replied: 

''No” 

"I do so like to walk under the leafy trees my- 
self, that is when I’m in good company.” And 
then after a pause the speaker added ingenuous- 
ly: "And I think you’re mighty good company, 
so I do.” 

The rather unpoetical listener merely breathed 
a non-committal: 

"Ah!” 

"I just do, Willie, and I don’t care one bit who 
knows it.” Pause, followed on the lady’s part 
by a question in insinuating tones: "You don’t 
get tired walking, do you. Bill?” 

"Yes.” 

"That’s awful funny, don’t you know, for I don’t 
— with you — and you’re so big and so strong. You 
always look so healthy to me. Bill.” 

Mr. Still was silent awhile, until he saw a reply 
was expected. Then he glanced at his companion 
and queried: 

"Yes?” 

"Oh, yes, indeed,” Martha affirmed. "So picter- 
esque.” Here she blocked an attempt on the part 
of her companion to pass her, and continued what 



“ What would you do I child ? ” 


4* h 



I 

c 


I 





A 




LOVES YOUNG DREAM 


275 


appeared like an assault upon William Stilks 
flinty heart with an appeal to his taste in land- 
scape effect: ^^Don^t you think it is very romantic 
out here?’’ 

Just at this juncture a mosquito alighted upon 
the young man’s jaw. With unwonted energy he 
smote the offender to its death, and yelled, rather 
than spoke: 

‘"No!” 

do — with you by my side,” the girl continued, 
with a languishing glance at his unresponsive 
countenance. ^^The old mill looks quite too sweet, 
don’t it?” 

Here Mr. Still, whose back was turned to that 
edifice, nearly ruined his reputation for monosyl- 
lability by the for him remarkably lengthy rejoin- 
der: 

‘^Can’t see it.” 

As his head was stiffly turned away from the 
river and ruins the assertion had the merit of ab- 
solute verity. Miss Blodgett discerned humor, 
and eyen wit in the words, and laughed heartily. 

^Wou funny cuss-tomer! I say, William, I be- 
lieve I could stay out here all night — with you. 
Couldn’t you, with me by your side?” 


FOGG^S FERRY 


m 

still shook his head with an air of weariness, 
said ^^No,” and showed signs of wilting. 

But the lady realized that such an opportunity 
might not offer again, and returned to the charge 
most gallantly. 

^^No? You^re so blunt. But I like a man to be 
blunt. It looks so — so manly.” Pause. ^‘Shall 
we go further?” 

Mr. Still shook his head meekly. 

''No.” 

"Maybe you would prefer to stay here awhile?” 

But the gentleman negatived this delicate sug- 
gestion, a trifle more positively. 

"Do you wish to go home, then, William?” asked 
Martha, somewhat plaintively. 

The answer was mercilessly uncompromising. 

"Yes!” 

The girl looked reproachfully at him, and with 
a tinge of sadness in her tones, calculated to melt 
a less adamantine bosom, addressed a last appeal 
to her taciturn vis-a-vis. 

"Then we’ll have to go — unless you can think of 
something to amuse us.” This admission was 
punctured with another pause — alas, unavailing! 
So she went on, now playing her last and strong- 
est card: "It’s lucky for me. Bill, that you are 


LOVES YOUNG DREAM 


277 


such an honorable man; because if you were to in- 
sist upon kissing me in such a lonesome place I 
couldn’t help myself in the least.” After letting 
these syllables ooze out as it were with a charm- 
ing innocence, she paused to note their effect. But 
the hint, if a hint were intended, fell unheeded. 
Mr. Still gazed stolidly before him, very much as 
if he had not heard. 

There was at last just a trace of vexation in the 
lady’s countenance; but even yet she did not de- 
spair. She crept to his side, laid her curls upon 
his shoulder, and gazing straight up into his eyes 
with a charming, confiding air, continued: ^^But, 
William, you wouldn’t, would you?” 

It was a moment of awful temptation. Mar- 
tha’s lips, unconsciously let us suppose, were 
pursed as if for whistling. They may not have 
been twin cherries, but they were lips and they 
were there, right under the young man’s nose, as 
he slowly turned to survey the speaker. 

William Still may not have been a hero. He 
probably knew not the meaning of the word. But 
he was honorable, even as Martha had just said. 
He was not free, as he remembered, to poach in 
any preserve that came his way. He had asked 
the little governess to be his wife. He was yet 


278 


FOGG^S FERRY 


awaiting her answer, though a full year had 
elapsed since he had made his avowal. But Wil- 
liam was not frivolous. His was a life of thought 
not speech. With the image of Chip in his heart 
he became adamant. And his reply was : 

''No!'’ 

Miss Blodgett drew off, somewhat crushed. But 
she had too much feminine finesse to exhibit 
pique. 

''Of course not,” she said, with a semblance of 
cheeriness. "That is why I respect you so much.” 
After a slight silence, in which Mr. Still stood im- 
mobile as ever, she again approached him with the 
delicate inquiry: "Do you ever think of marrying, 
William?” 

"Never,” was the prompt rejoinder, probably as 
truthful as such statements usually are. 

"Neither do I. But if ever you should change 
your mind, and ask a girl to be your wife, I bet 
she'd be proud. I know I would.” 

This artless confession merely brought from 
William a wondering: 

"So?” 

Not precisely encouraging, but it admitted a 
pursuit of the subject, and Martha Blodgett was 
not a quitter. 


LOVES YOUNG DREAM 


279 


yes. — You^re not thinking of asking any 
one right away, are you?” 

^^No,” he returned. 

course not. If you was, though, this would 
be a boss place. No one could hear you, you 
know.” 

But there came a turn. Still evidently felt that 
he must act if he wished to preserve himself. He 
suddenly gave a frightened yell, and appeared 
overcome with a frightful panic, his knees smit- 
ing together, and his teeth chattering. It was 
now very dark, and objects under the great trees 
looked weird and uncanny. With a responsive 
shriek his fair companion fell into his arms, gasp- 
ing: 

^What is it, Willie? Did you hear anything?” 


«Y— yes.”- 

^‘Maybe it’s a ghost,” Martha suggested, cling- 
ing closer to him. 

‘Ter’aps.” 

Silence ensued, however, and Miss Blodgett, 
with gradually regained confidence, gently in 
quired: 

‘^Am I heavy, William?” 

^^Ton,” responded the gentleman ungallantly. 

Martha shook herself off in a huff. 


280 


FOGG'S FERRY 


Still, you’re a brute,” she cried. 

He turned to her. 

'^Martha.” 

^^Yes, Bill,” she eagerly answered. 

^^Skoot!” 

And the unfaithful swain, as if to exemplify the 
expression, and perhaps encourage her to follow 
his advice, darted along the road in the direction 
of Norwood with the gait of a greyhound, leaving 
his companion standing and staring, as greatly 
astonished as indignant. 

But it was no place for a lone damsel, that som- 
bre wood, and before the retreating figure was 
lost to view Miss Blodgett was pursuing the fu- 
gitive with almost equal velocity. 

As to what followed when they came together 
we draw a veil ; for another lapse, this time of two 
full years, occurs, before we take up the thread 
of our narrative again. 


I 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


MATCHMAKING. 

October in the South is generally as balmy and 
spring-like as May in the North, but the particular 
October which visited this portion of our sphere 
during the third year succeeding Miss Fogg’s dis- 
appearance from Norwood seemed to have become 
disgruntled at something, and from his first day 
indulged in freezing frowns. There was frost 
without, and fires were welcomed within. 

So it chanced that one evening after dinner the 
Judge was seated before a cheerful fire in his li- 
brary, deciphering a crumpled and soiled bit of 
paper^ whose writing was as disreputable as the 
document, when he was interrupted by the en- 
trance of Miss Martha Blodgett. 

That her communication was, at least in her 
opinion, an important one, became very evident. 
Before coming in she glanced down the hall and 
then carefully closed the door before she spoke. 

^Tlease,” she began, responding to the old gen- 
tleman’s inquiring stare, ‘Tkg got her safe in her 
( 281 ) 


282 


FOGG'S FERRY 


room, sir, and unbeknownst to — to everybody. I 
brought her in through the back garden, sir.” 

^^Have you given her the dress I provided?” 

“Oh, yes, sir. She is dressing now, sir. And 
she do look just too beautiful, she do.” 

The Judge glanced at the paper he was holding, 
and muttered to himself: “If this man. Bolter, 
redeems his promise, there will be a domestic 
earthquake here to-night. — Martha, you had bet- 
ter go and assist the young lady with her toilet.” 

But Martha shook her ringlets. 

“She rather prefers to dress herself, sir. She^s 
used to it, so she says, sir.” 

Further discussion was cut short by the opening 
of the door, and the appearance of Miss Norwood. 
Blanche was now a very pretty, and quite stately- 
looking girl of twenty. A somewhat too pro- 
nounced haughtiness dominated her manner, and 
perhaps detracted from a first feeling of thorough 
admiration. Her quick-toned words as she no- 
ticed the maid sounded unamiable. 

“You haven’t dusted the parlors, Martha.” 

Miss Blodgett tossed her head slightly, and an- 
swered pertly: 

“I’ve been a executing a errand for your father, 
Miss.” 


MATCHMAKING 


283 


^Well, attend to your work at once/^ retorted 
Blanche icily, and Martha beat a retreat. As the 
door closed Miss Norwood turned to her parent, 
who was now immersed in the pages of a news- 
paper, and continued: ‘^Bruce Rawdon is coming 
here this evening, father. I have asked him.^^ 

“I thought that you and he were pronounced 
enemies.’’ 

^^So we were three years ago,” the girl replied 
carelessly. ^‘But we have become friends again. 
He is not a bad fellow, father, though I know you 
don’t admire him. — He wishes to speak to you — 
about me.” 

About you!” exclaimed the Judge, dropping his 
paper and glancing at her in amazement. ^^Have 
you been receiving his attentions then?” She 
bowed an assent, and he went on: “I regret it has 
gone so far. You are right about my opinion of 
Mr. Rawdon. I don’t like the young man.” 

^^But I do.” She sat at the table as she spoke 
the pert-sounding retort. 

Judge Norwood rose, came behind her, and 
stood for awhile looking at his daughter thought- 
fully. 

^^Can I do nothing to save you from this entan- 
glement? I fear we have not understood each 


284 


FOGCS FERRY 


other as we should. Something seems to have 
arisen between us to check the flow of feeling nat- 
ural between father and daughter. But, Blanche, 
you must not think that I have no interest in your 
welfare. I hear things of Bruce Kawdon that a 
woman would not, and, to put it mildly, I feel sure 
that he would be no model husband. Is it too late 
to reason with you?’^ 

“Yes, Father, it is — too late,” she replied, with- 
out looking up. The Judge went back to his seat, 
and Blanche in turn arose and approached him. 
“Do not worry. Father. It is not a hasty affair. 
We have known each other all our lives, you know. 
— Does not a woman become of legal age at eight- 
een in this state?” 

“Yes. You reached your majority two years 
ago. Why do you ask, Blanche?” 

She answered very deliberately, and with some 
hesitation: 

“Because Bruce and I were married this morn- 
ing.” 

The old gentleman started up with a look of 
surprise. 

“Married. Without consulting me!” 

“Bruce persuaded me. He knew you did not like 


matchmaking 


285 


him. — My mother willed me her property, did she 
not?” 

There was a severe ring to her father^s tones as 
he asked quickly: 

^^Has your husband already suggested that you 
claim your rights?” 

The girl retorted coolly: 

^^He has that privilege if he sees fit.” 

“You are right. And you are likewise correct 
as to the will. Blanche Norwood is quite an heir- 
ess. This mansion is hers, and there has accumu- 
lated considerable money, besides a large sum in 
stocks and bonds — all for her.” 

She glanced up sharply: “Why do you say ^for 
her?’ ” 

He laughed. 

“Because my daughter is a woman, I suppose.” 

Next she asked him thoughtfully: “Are these 
bonds in your possession?” 

“As your trustee, yes.” 

“Then, being of age and a wife, I think it is 
time to relieve you of the trust.” 

Her father arose, and moved to the door. 

“Very good. I will prepare you a complete ac- 
count of my stewardship, and render up the prop- 
erty to-morrow.” 


286 


FOGG^S FERRY 


That was all he said as he left the room. But 
there was an unspoken reservation, which would 
have electrified her could she have known it: 
this fellow Bolter has lied to me!” 

Blanche stood looking into the fire thoughtfully. 
Then she dropped into her father^s arm-chair, as 
she slowly repeated audibly: “‘All for her!’ — 
‘Blanche Norwood is quite an heiress.’ How odd-^ 
ly those words sounded. How ominous. I can’t 
tell why, but as father spoke I thought of that 
girl Chip. I wonder what has become of her! 
Martha probably knows. They were always 
friendly.” 

She rose, and started for the door, paused as if 
reluctant, then left the room and went straight 
to the parlor. Miss Blodgett was there, equipped 
with a feather dusting brush, with which she was 
engaged in a determined onslaught upon the fur- 
niture. 

“Martha,” commenced her mistress, affecting to 
arrange a vase, “what has become of that ferry 
girl, Fogg?’^ 

Miss Blodgett gave a prodigious start. She was 
Aveighted with a secret, and such a query looked 
as if it Was at least suspected. 


MATCHMAKING 


287 


“Lor’, Miss, Chip? What a turn you gave me. 
How ever should I know?” 

She stammered a little, and Blanche observed 
her confusion. 

• “She does know,” she thought. “She’s evading.” 
Then she spoke with an air of carelessness: “Oh, 
it is of no importance. But I supposed you serv- 
ants kept track of each other.” 

Miss Blodgett bridled up, and answered with 
spirit: 

“Miss Chip wern’t no servant.” 

There was an ugly gleam in the lady’s eye as 
she faced the speaker. 

“She was as much an underling as yourself. 
Don’t be insolent, Martha Blodgett, if you desire 
to remain in my house.” 

“Your house. Miss?” 

“You heard what I said. Understand that from 
now on there will be no master here but me, and 
that no friend of that little imp can live under my 
roof.” 

“I think Chip were a lady!” retorted the aroused 
house maid. 

“So you aspire to be her champion! You pre- 
sume too much on your long service, my lady. But 
be careful, or you may go, too.” 


POGG^S PERRY 


don’t care. I like Chip! Yes, I love Chip! 
Why I’d die for her any day.” Then as Miss Nor- 
wood turned scornfully upon her, Miss Fogg’s 
champion recoiled, and raised her duster threaten- 
ingly as she shrieked; ^^Don’t come nigh me, you 
wild-cat!” 

Blanche swept proudly by the girl towards the 
door, turning before she left to say: ^^Silly fool, 
you can go at once to your paragon. Never show 
your insolent face here again.” 

Martha stood with uplifted brush staring after 
her, and soon the defiant frown upon her honest 
countenance began to soften into an expression 
of dismay. There were reasons why she felt de- 
cidedly reluctant to go. And, even as she re- 
fiected that she had been too hasty, the chief of 
these reasons met her gaze. Mr. Yv^illiam Still 
was passing along the hall, and stopped at her 
plaintive tones: 

^^Oh, Willie, what ever do you think? I’m 
bounced!” 

“Bad,” was the terse and sympathetic comment. 

“Yes, it is — too bad,” continued Martha. “But 
Miss Blanche, she insulted Chip, and I got my 
back up, and sassed her; and now I’m fired, and 


MATCHMAKING 


289 


don’t know whatever in this wide world for to do.” 

^^Move,” suggested her hearer, quietly. 

‘^You see everything,” was the admiring reply. 
“But I want to stay. I’m congenerous here, and 
you’re here, and — and I don’t wan’t to leave my 
friends.” With charming coyness she sidled out 
into the hall beside him, and added; “You don’t 
allow to go, I reckon, William?” 

Much to her astonishment he nodded and said: 
“Yes.” 

“You do! Well, there are things that makes 
things different under different circumstances. I 
can go cheerful now, and oh. Bill, prob’ly we may 
find another place together again once more.” 

Mr. Still’s “No” threw cold water upon the 
maid’s optimistic planning. Still she argued 
coaxingly; 

“We might, mightn’t we? And if not, why not?” 

“Store,” was the laconic rejoinder. To his lis- 
tener, however, the word conveyed almost as little 
meaning as a shake of the head. 

“You mean to open a store! Why that will be 
scrumptious! And, Billy, you’ll need a clerk. Oh, 
how I would dote on being your clerk, and having 
you for a boss. Think it over while I run and 
pack up, and then I’ll see you again, and let you 


290 


FOGG'S FERRY 


tell me what to do. For well I know how wise 
you be.’’ 

The speaker paused to catch her breath, and the 
man, conceiving that some reply was expected, 
raised his brows and said: “So?” 

“Oh, yes. People as can’t talk always is smart. 
And then, William, you know how honorable you 
was. I have never forgot the time when you 
wouldn’t kiss me in the happy long ago in the 
woods — that is, in the mouth, under the green- 
wood trees, because you knew how mad it would 
make my feelings.” 

And with the words the maiden stayed not on 
the order of her going, but ran nimbly upstairs. 

Mr. Still after a brief period of statue-like re- 
pose, drew a long breath, ejaculated sotto voce 
something that sounded like “Gosh!” and walked 
slowly down the hall to the front door, which he 
opened. Just then a rustling sound behind him 
attracted his attention, and he looked back just in 
time to catch a glimpse of a richly attired female 
figure stealing into the drawing room. 

It certainly w^as not Martha, and it struck him 
that the form was too diminutive for Blanche. 
Bill was never accused of being quick-witted, but 
he rose to the occasion, and, with some' shrewd 


MATCHMAKING 


291 


guess at the truth, closed the outer door, and 
stepped quietly to the parlor entrance. 

There before the pier glass posed a young lady 
attired in full evening dress. Although William 
had not seen her for over three years, and notwith- 
standing what seemed to him an almost miracu- 
lous change for the better, he had no difficulty in 
knowing Chip at the first glance. At the same 
time she noticed his refiection in the mirror, and 
turned to greet him. 

It was not surprising that he was so readily 
recognized, for he had scarcely altered at all, and 
besides she naturally looked forward to such a 
meeting. 

‘^Why, Mr. Still,^^ cried the girl, coming to him 
with both hands extended, am truly glad to see 
you. But you must not tell on me. I am disobey- 
ing orders in coming downstairs, but I could not 
resist the temptation to look at this dress in the 
glass.’’ As he did not vouchsafe any remark in 
return, she smiled and continued: ^^Still silent?” 
This brought an affirmative nod, repeated at the 
query: ^^Silent still?” 

Miss Fogg pouted a little, and exclaimed: ^Wil- 
liam Still, do please say something. At least tell 
me that I look nice.’^ 


29 ^ 


POGG^S PEkRV 


Thus challenged the taciturn man of all work 
took a deliberate survey of the girl, and then ut- 
tered a judgment somewhat memorable and orig- 
inal, in the expression: ^^Superbilious/^ 

Chip smiled. 

thought you would think so. Now, William, 
I want you to tell me something about myself. 
Do you know who has kept me at school the last 
three years 

The gentleman shook his head. 

‘Wou won’t tell?” catechised the girl in severe 
tones. 

^^Can’t,” he answ^ered. 

^^Then I must retreat to my cell.” 

‘‘No,” Bill said, and he stood in the doorway so 
as to prevent her exit. 

“Why not?” she asked, looking at him in sur- 
prise. “Did you want anything from me?” 

“Yes.” 

“What?” 

“Answer.” 

The young lady stared at him with a puzzled ex- 
pression as she repeated the word. Finally, a 
broad smile succeeded. 

“Oh, I had forgotten. Bill. I remember now — 
that was several years ago.” 


MATCHMAKING 


298 


Mr. Still looked at his fingers as if counting, 
then assented: ^^Three.’^ 

^^Yes,” said Chip, nodding her head, ^^more than 
three years ago you honored me with the offer of 
your hand. Now, William Still, I like you. I have 
a sincere admiration for you. But there is one 
feeling we experience but once, and for one only; 
and, Bill, in this case you are not the one. I^m 
ever so sorry, but my answer must be, no.” 

‘^No?” he repeated gloomily. 

^Wes,” she exclaimed decidedly. 

^^Yes?” very eagerly. 

''No.” 

"Oh,” he commented, with a sigh and a nod. 

Then he stepped into the room, so as to allow 
her a chance to leave. She looked at him sympa- 
thetically, and said gently: 

"I would like to recommend some one to you. 
DonT you think Martha Blodgett very nice?” 

"Y-e-s,” was the answer, but in somewhat dubi- 
ous tones. 

"I think she would make a very affectionate 
wife.” 

"Yes!” This time with emphasis. 

"Then Tvhy not oblige me, and make yourself 
and Martha happy? Marry her, William,” 


294 


FOGG'S FERRY 


Bill blinked at the speaker thoughtfully, sighed, 
moved slowly out into the hall, and spoke his de- 
cision just as he disappeared: ^^Yes!” 

Although there was something grotesque about 
the interview. Chip did not laugh. She looked 
after Mr. Still wistfully, saying to herself: 
hope he will be happy. I w^onder if he can ever 
feel for Martha what I feel for Gerald White.^’ 
Then the remembrance that she was disobeying 
orders in absenting herself from her room started 
her hurriedly to the door. 

She had taken but a step when Judge Norwood 
appeared before her. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


A BIT OF BANTER. 

Chip drew back with a guilty expression. 

The Judge tried to look stern, but there was a 
good-natured twinkle in his eyes. 

^‘You left here a malefactor, young lady. Are 
we to find upon your return that you are still a 
criminal?’^ 

^^Criminal!” The girl was a little startled. 

^^Aye. Soldiers are shot for disobeying orders, 
you know. Why did you not remain in your 
room? Do you want to mar a magnificent plot? 
Where is your reason. Miss?” 

The girl was reassured by his manner, and re- 
plied, smiling: 

haven’t any. But, now, Judge, allow me to 
question. First of all, tell me of my dear little 
charges. What have you done with great-eyed 
Edna, and sedate, solemn Tennessee? Did they 
miss me much?” 

^^They were inconsolable at first,” Mr. Norwood 
returned. “But childhood’s sorrows are very eva- 
nescent. When they lost their governess we sent 

( 295 ) 


296 


FOGCS FERRY 


them to Columbia to school, and they* have re- 
mained there ever since, except during vacation. 
One of your little pupils, by the way, is about a 
head taller than her preceptress.’^ 

‘True,” assented Chip. “Edna must be almost 
a young lady. But let us come to my own* affairs. 
Judge Norwood, are you my unknown friend? Is 
it you who have kept me at school for three* years? 
I know it must have been. But why? What has 
made you take such an interest in me? Why, for 
instance, am I provided with this handsome 
frock?” 

“Do you remember the night by that old mill, 
little girl, when Gerald White prevented a very 
rash attempt on your part to solve life’s problem; 
and how the excitement brought on a raging 
fever, at the end of which, weeks later, you 
found yourself an inmate as pupil of the convent 
in Nashville? You of course know that much, as 
well as I, and your subsequent school life much 
better. Before the evening is over we may both 
become much wiser upon other matters, but mean- 
time you must ask no questions, and go back to 
your room.” 

As he spoke, the old gentleman caught up a 
book, and seated himself in an arm-chair before 


A Bit OF BANTER 


2S7 


the cheerful grate fire. The girl watched him de- 
liberately adjust his glasses, ignoring her pres- 
ence, and immerse himself in the volume. 

‘^Go to my room,’’ she thought, wish he would 
tell me something about Gerald White.” She 
Avent as far as the door, stopped, mustered up all 
her courage, and spoke aloud: ^^Mr. Norwood — 
Judge!” He looked up suddenly, and, a trifle 
flurried, she stammered: ^^Ahem. Is — is every- 
body well?” 

‘^Whom do you mean by everybody?” He 
counter-queried, smiling to himself at what he 
considered his slyness. 

‘Well, there is — Martha.” 

“Whom you have seen this evening. Did there 
seem to be anything ailing her?” 

Miss Fogg looked piqued, though this was un- 
noticed by her companion, who had resumed his 
book. She wished him, of course, to tell her about 
Gerald White, and yet with womanly modesty 
refrained from a direct statement of her desires. 
Her reply was: 

“Anything wrong with Martha? No, she looks 
well, and is as nice as she looks. Do you have the 
same visitors you used to have?” 

There was a grim smile flitting oyer the fea- 


298 


FOGG’S FERRY 


tures of the old lawyer as he thought: ^^She is 
hinting at Gerald.” But he answered with grav- 
ity: “Oh, yes; there are men from the hills, an oc- 
casional stranger, and — ^yes, about the same.” 

“It must be delightful to have so much nice so- 
ciety.” ^ 

“Charming. I had nearly forgotten Mr. and 
Mrs. Fogg. Probably you were thinking of them.” 

“Oh, yes, of course. But — but — ” It was so 
hard to continue. 

“Yes,” said the Judge, wheeling his chair so as 
to look at her. 

“Do you think you have mentioned all who 
call?” 

“I think so, except, of course, Blanche’s com- 
pany.” 

“Does he — does she — stammered Chip quickly. 
“I mean. Judge, do you — ” and then she stopped 
dead. 

“Yes, I think I do,” retorted the old man dryly. 
“Let me think. Did I mention Mr. White?” 

“Whom?” 

“White— Gerald White.” 

“Oh, yes,” cried the girl, in a gush of remem- 
brance; “I believe I do recall the party. Didn’t 
he have red hair?” 

“Green.” 


A BIT OF BANTER 


299 


protested she, staring at him. 
mean brown,” he corrected himself. ‘‘I pre- 
sume you know of Blanche’s marriage.” 

An expression of something like horror crept 
over the girl’s countenance. 

‘"Married!” she exclaimed. This was all that 
Avas audible, but there was an unspoken supple- 
ment: “And he proposed to me!” 

“You do not object, do you?” 

“Me, sir; no, sir! I’m very much obliged — I 
mean pleased.” Then, with a suspicious imitation 
of a sob she contrived to add: “I wish them every 
happiness.” 

“Them and their families,” said the Judge with 
a nod, as a supplement. 

There was something ludicrous in Chip’s expres- 
sion as she gasped: “Family! Oh, Judge, have 
they a baby?” , 

At this juncture there was an interruption. Un- 
noticed by the speakers, there had been a ring at 
the outer door, answered by Miss Blodgett, and 
Gerald White had entered the hall, and placed his 
hat and a light top coat on the rack. Before 
Judge Norwood could smother his suppressed 
laughter, and answer the query, the young 


300 


FOGG^S FERRY 


man entered briskly, with the exclamation: 
received the note, Judge, and trust I am on time. 
But I had to hasten.” Then he espied the girl, 
who had turned her back. ^^Good heavens! Chip!” 
And he eagerly hurried to her. 

^^Don’t you come near me^ sir!” cried that dam- 
sel severely, without looking at him. 

Gerald glanced appealingly at his partner, but 
that gentleman had resumed his book. Then he 
asked in surprise: ^‘What do you mean, Miss 
Fogg? This is our first meeting in over three 
years.” 

With a spiteful ring in her tones. Chip snapped: 
^Wou had better go meet your wife, sir.” 

^Wife!” he repeated. 

^^And your poor deserted bald-headed baby.” 

^^Baby!” he fairly yelled. 

^^And please don’t echo my every word like a 
parrot.” Then she finally whirled upon him with 
the awful accusation: ^‘Oh, you — ^you man!” 

^Ts there anything wrong, Judge?” White asked 
the Judge, with a significant gesture to his fore- 
head. 

The elder gentleman arose, as he said severely: 
^Wou must not slander my junior partner. Miss 


A BIT OF BANTER 


eol 


Fogg. He is the most inveterate bachelor in 
Tennessee.” 

‘^Then he is not married to Blanche?” 

^^Certainly not, my dear. Blanche, as I intended 
to inform you, is Mrs. Bruce Kawdon.” 

^^But the baby?” 

‘^What baby?” cried White, staring at her. 

‘^Your — our — his — Judge Norwood,” bounding 
up to the old gentleman, “hasn’t some one got a 
baby?” 

Instead of making her a reply, Mr. Norwood 
went gravely to Gerald, and with a very solemn 
air said to him: “Gerald, this is serious. I think, 
doctor,” with a poke in the young man’s ribs, “I 
will leave the patient to your ministrations.” 

Then he went out of the room. 

In the meantime Chip had occupied the old gen- 
tleman’s vacated arm-chair by the fireside. White 
closed the door after the Judge, and came softly 
behind her. 

“Chip,” he said tenderly. 

“Yes,” she answered, without looking up. 

“I haven’t seen you in an age.” 

“I believe not.” 

“I think you have improved wonderfully.” 


302 


FOGG'S FERRY 


^^Indeed!’’ was the reply, worthy for brevity of 
Still Bill himself. 

Then there ensued an interval of silence, as if 
the youth did not know what further to say; as 
was in truth the fact. Finally he hazarded a re- 
mark about the weather: ^^Quite chilly to-night.^’ 

^^Yes,” the girl replied, with a mischievous 
smile, which unluckily the young man could not 
see, ^T’m quite cool.’’ 

should say so,” he thought. What he said 
was: wish, dear, you would not be so icy.” 

see,” she said demurely, in a manner that 
made the words seem a repetition of his last one. 

White felt disappointed and vexed, but after a 
struggle spoke with deep feeling: ^‘Don’t you re- 
member, Chip, your promise to me made by the 
millside three years ago, when you said so sweet- 
ly, will be your little wife?’ You were taken 
away after that, you and I both divine by whom, 
though he has never to me acknowledged his hav- 
ing a hand in your future. But when I wished to 
write to you he begged me not to distract you 
from your school life. ^Let her alone,’ he said. 
Wait. Improve. She will do the same.’ I did as 
he asked. I have waited. You have improy;ed 


A BIT OF BANTER 


303 


even beyond my expectation. You are a lady now 
— you have not forgotten our talk by the mill — ’’ 

^‘And you?’’ queried she softly. She was serious 
enough now. 

^^I’m the Judge’s partner now. Things have 
changed with the poor law student.” 

thought you would change,” she commented 

slyly. 

He laughed, then became very serious. 

^Hn one respect, you puss, I have not — in my 
love. If again I say, dear little Chip, ^Be my little 
wife,’ you will not be offended?” 

Looking gravely into the glowing coals before 
her, the girl stopped as if weighing her words, be- 
fore replying in a low tone: ‘T would be no wom- 
an if I were, Mr. White.” 

^^Mr. White!” he repeated in a hurt voice. 

She rose, facing him, but holding up a hand to 
repel any advance, and slowly went on: ‘Wes, 
Mr. White. I have thought seriously of this meet- 
ing, for I felt that you ’would ask me to renew that 
foolish child’s promise. But I beg you to forget it. 
It can never be as you wish — never.” 

The young gentleman looked at her with sur- 
prise and anger. Then he walked to the door, as 
if going. Here after a pause, he faced about and 


mi 


POGG'S FERRY 


said: do not understand you. You have de- 

ceived me. You for whose constancy I would 
have pledged my very life. You made me believe 
that you loved me.” 

Miss Fogg leaned against the back of her chair, 
blinked at the firelight, and said to herself pet- 
ishly: ‘^Goose! He hasn’t asked me if I loved 
him.” 

Receiving no reply, Gerald went on: will not 

submit tamely to such treatment. I shall give up 
my interest in the office, and put miles between 
us. Yes, long miles,” he added whimsically, ^^and 
at once — now! Farewell.” 

Strange to relate, he did not go, but stayed hes- 
itating. 

The girl started, crying to herself, ^^He oughtn’t 
to go!” Then she stole a sly glance back, saw no 
sign of departure, and merely said: ^^Good-bye.’^ 

The bye-play being lost upon this very stupid 
young man, he continued in a funereal voice. ^Tt 
is a crushing blow, Miss Fogg, but I will bear it. 
^^Good-bye.” 

And still he lingered, and the door remained un- 
opened, a status of affairs not lost upon his quick- 
witted companion. So she again said quietly: 
^^Good-bye.” 


A BIT OF BANTER 


805 


would not do, you know,” he argued, ^^for 
me to remain here and be meeting you. It would 
be embarrassing for both of us. Good-bye.” 

This time he opened the door, but it must be ad- 
mitted, very slightly. Chip again told herself, 
didn’t say I didn’t love him.” After which she 
fairly shouted: ^^Good-bye, good-bye, good-bye!” 

^Tf you have any parting words for — for me. 
Miss Fogg,” Mr. White said, holding on to the 
knob of the door, and evidently at a loss for words 
proper to the occasion, ‘^you had better speak, for 
we may never meet again this side of the grave.” 

Fearing that he might really disappear the girl 
at last spoke: “Gerald White, your behavior is 
scandalous.” He stared. “I dislike you very much, 
sir.” He took a step towards her, then stopped. 
After a slight pause she cried softly: “Unhand 
me, ruffian.” He was too astonished to at once 
take the hint, and she had to add: “Eemove your 
arm from about my waist.” 

What ensued may best be imagined. Holding 
her closely, he looked into her eyes and said: “You 
incarnate little mischief. It was, then, all a jest.” 

She became serious. 

“No, it was not a jest.” 


306 


FOGG’S FERRY 


“You surely did not mean it?” he inquired anx- 
iously. 

^‘Yes — no — I don’t know,” was the rather con- 
tradictory jumble of words that escaped her. He 
looked hurt, and she went on gravely: “Do you 
think, Gerald, I could bear to have you ashamed 
of your little wife? We must wait until the mys- 
tery of my life is solved. I am certain I am not 
the child of the Foggs, and I believe Judge Nor- 
wood knows who I really am. When that story 
is told, if there is nothing to make you blush for 
me, you will find me earnest enough.” With an 
April change of manner she tripped to the door, 
turned merrily, and mimmicking his voice, said: 
“And now, Mr. White, I must say good-bye. If 
you have any parting words for — for me, you had 
better speak, for we may never meet again this 
side of — to-morrow.” And with a merry laugh, she 
tripped away. 

“This side of to-morrow,” he repeated. “Heav- 
ens! ’tis an eternity.” 

Then he sought the Judge in the library. 

Just as Chip ran along the hall, Mr. Bruce Raw- 
don, coming out of his wife’s room on the second 
floor, saw her. He waited till White entered the 


A BIT OF BANTER 


307 


library, then came down the stairs, and went into 
the parlor. 

At the same time, unnoticed by him, Martha 
Blodgett was answering a ring at the outer door. 

Had he realized what that summons meant — 
but we must not anticipate. 


CHAPTER XXVL 


THE BEGINNING OF THE END. 

When Miss Blodgett opened the door she was a 
little startled to find a very rough-looking person- 
age, with matted hair and beard, and a white, 
sickly-looking face, leaning against a column, as if 
for support. 

^‘I’m here to see the Judge,’^ he said. Then, see- 
ing her draw back, he added: ^^It^s all right. He 
sent for me.” 

^^Come in, then. Wait in the parlor.” — Pointing 
to the door. — ‘‘I think he is in the library.” 

Martha passed on, and the man moved slowly 
and feebly to the indicated entrance. The door 
stood ajar. As he was about to enter he saw that 
the apartment already contained an inmate, who 
was unconsciously speaking aloud, though com- 
muning with himself. 

^^That was Chip,” the listener heard the other 
say. ^^She must be here for a purpose. What? 
Who is bringing her forward? That booby White? 
— Pshaw! — The Judge! But who could have put 
him on the track? There is Fogg. But no. 


THE BEGINNING OF THE END 


309 


Neither he nor his wife would dare. Besides why 
need I fear? There is no proof within their reach. 
There is no proof in existence except this bauble, 
which I have carried about me for more than 
three years.’’ 

As he spoke, he took from a small purse the 
locket he had stolen from Fogg’s hut, and looked 
at it earnestly. 

don’t know why I have not destroyed it,” he 
went on. ^Tf anything happened to me, and it 
fell into other hands, it might be a dangerous tell- 
tale.” 

There was a settee with a high back near the 
door. The rough man in the hall tiptoed into the 
room and crouched unnoticed behind it. He had 
scracely concealed himself when Rawdon looked 
sharply around, as if to learn if there was a lis- 
tener. He saw no one, and went to the door and 
drew it to. Then, with a last look at the jewel, 
and muttering: will silence its tongue for- 

ever,” tossed the locket into the fire, and left the 
room quickly, closing the door after him. 

As soon as he was left alone, the man who had 
witnessed this action ran nimbly to the fire, and 
taking from his neck a colored handkerchief 
which he used to protect his hand, plucked the 


310 


FOGG'S FERRY 


locket from its bed of coals, and dropped it on the 
rug, undamaged save by a smoke discoloration. 

^There’s deviltry afoot, and it’s agin the gal 
Chip. I 'svonder Tvhat this gold gew-gaw is. It’s 
so fire-blacked that a fellow can’t — ” He stopped 
abruptly, rubbed the stains from the locket with 
his handkerchief, and attempted to open it, dis- 
playing an eagerness that fairly made him trem- 
ble. Finally he succeeded, and looked upon the 
likeness of a young woman with open exulta- 
tion, as he went on: Jumpin’ catamounts! I’m 
born to tumble into luck. Ef it aren’t the purty 
white-faced mother of the little gal! Why, this 
are the werry gim-crack Fogg copped from the 
babby’s neck that snowy night in the mines. Now 
won’t they believe me! No, I reckon not!” 

He was interrupted by the opening of the door, 
and the appearance of Judge Norwood, who said: 

“You have come in good time. Bolter.” 

The man pocketed the locket, unnoticed, as he 
returned: 

“Yes, Jedge, I’m here, and that’s about all, I 
reckon. I’ve had a hard pull lately, governor, but 
I’ve managed to save myself for this job. When 
do you want the story?” 

“Just as soon as you have had something to 


THE BEGINNING OF THE END 


311 


brace up. Come.” He took the man by the arm as 
he spoke, and assisted him to the hall door. Be- 
fore going further, he stopped and looked Bolter 
straight in the eyes. The latter returned the gaze 
without blinking, and said quietly: 

“IVe done some sneak jobs in my life, pardner, 
for true. Some as I’d like to wipe out and forget, 
mebbe. But I means to make this night’s work 
wipe out the all-firedest, meanest trick I ever 
played. You can trust me, governor.” 

know I can,” was the reply, as the Judge 
led him gently to the dining-room. 

A moment later Mr. Still might have been seen 
coming down the broad stairway, laden with a 
valise and bundles, and followed by Miss Blod- 
gett, who was saying: 

“So you will insist upon carrying my bundles to 
the hotel?” 

“Yes,” he replied manfully. 

“I hate to embarrass you,” she continued, step- 
ping to his side as they reached the hall, “but I’m 
very glad of your company. It would be very hard 
to part after we’ve been together so many long 
years.” 

“He merely remarked: “Together.” 


312 


FOGG^S FERRY 


^^Yes, I remember about your store. Haye you 
elected me for to be your clerk 

^^Housekeep,” was the to her somewhat unintel* 
ligible answer. 

^^Keep house for you? No, William, I know you 
mean well, but I’m only a girl, you know, with her 
name to defend, and it wouldn’t do you know.” 

“Yes,” he persevered. 

“I tell you, no!” said Miss Blodgett, with a tinge 
of anger in her yoice. “Don’t speak that way, 
or you’ll make me mad.” 

“Wife,” he explained. 

“What! You ask me to become your wife?” 

“Yes.” 

The lady looked at her would-be swain with a 
mingled expression of exultation and doubt. The 
change was sudden, and she reflected that it 
might be a “false alarm.” Mr. Still met her in- 
quiring look calmly. Finally she said: 

“Say it again, William, and say it slow.” 

He did more. He spelled it, after a fashion. 

“We-i-f — wife.” 

“Then^ Willie, you may take me,” and forgetting 
his burdens she threw herself into his arms, scat- 
tering over the floor everything except the valise. 
The crash brought the Judge into the hall, 


file, BEGINNING OF THE END Siij 

Mr. Still had just epigrammatically cried; 
“Took.” 

^What does this mean?’’ asked the master of 
the house severely. 

^‘Marriage,” returned his man, unabashed. 

^Tlease, sir, I am going away,” explained Miss 
Blodgett. 

‘Tired,” added Still. 

“Miss Blanche told me to leave,” said Martha 
further. 

“Beginning her reign,” was the Judge’s com- 
ment. “You needn’t go, Martha. And, William, 
after you put away the luggage, come to me in the 
dining room. Martha, tell Blanche I desire to see 
her in the parlor, and send Chip there also. An- 
swer the door first.” For at that moment there 
was a visitor’s ring. 

The Judge returned to the dining room. Still as- 
cended the stairs to Miss Blodgett’s chamber, 
bearing back her belongings, and Martha opened 
the front door. Upon the porch stood Mrs. Fogg, 
and behind her, looking timid and uncomfortable, 
smirked and bowed her worser half. There was 
nothing cringing about the old woman’s manner, 
however. 


314 


FOGCS FERRY 


^We’ve come to see the Jedge/’ she announced 
to the maid. ^^He sent for us.’^ 

‘^Come in,” said Martha, leading the way to the 
parlor door, which she threw open. 

Fogg’s wife strode sturdily into the room, the 
ferryman sneaking after her with an apologetic 
demeanor, and seating himself gingerly upon the 
sofa near the door. Miss Blodgett vanished. 

Mrs. Fogg appeared irritated by her spouse’s 
manner. ^‘You shiverin’ scarecrow, what are you 
’feared of? Pluck up your spunk, give over whin- 
erin’, and stand by me like a man. They can’t 
skeer nothin’ out o’ me, and don’t you be no sieve 
nuther. You mind, Zeb, there’s somethin’ wrong 
round here, or we’d not be sent for.” 
understand; we won’t bluff.” 

You’d better not,” rejoined the woman, with 
grim emphasis. 

Any further talk was cut off by the appearance 
at the open door of their daughter. She saw Fogg 
at once, and extended both hands to him, with a 
gleeful exclamation: ‘^Daddy! I am truly glad to 
see you once more. Why, when I look at you I 
can see the old ferry again,” continued she, shak- 
ing him heartily by the hands. ^Wou’ve changed. 
Daddy. A little more gray, and your hair is even 


THE BEGINNING OF THE END 


815 


thinner. I wanted to write, but for some reason 
it was not allowed, although the other girls were 
free to do so.’^ 

Her parent grinned affably during her words, 
and then nodded significantly in the direction of 
his better half. Chip, who had not seen her moth- 
er, now seated in an arm-chair beside the fire, 
turned to face her. ' 

Where did you get them clothes?’’ was the old 
woman’s affectionate greeting, after a three year’s 
separation. Seeing the girl remain staring at her, 
she went on sulkily: ^Well, Miss, where do I 
come in? Are I on earth?” 

The girl walked to her without any affectation 
of pleasure, and replied quietly: ‘T am glad to 
see you, too. Mammy, but I feel that I must say 
to you that ever since I left here I have thought 
and thought again about Mr. Rawdon’s assertion 
that you were not my mother. I think he told the 
truth. Yes, I know he did. So do you know it, 
and you can make amends for some harsh treat- 
ment of a forlorn child, by confessing here and 
now. Do it! Don’t turn from me. I must know 
the truth, and all the truth. Tell me who — tell 
me what I am.” 

There followed a moment’s silence, broken By 


816 


FOGG^S FERRY 


Fogg’s half-uttered comment: “She don’t under- 
stand herself!” 

Then Mrs. Fogg arose, took the girl by the arm 
with a grip that made her wince, looked her bold- 
ly in the eye, and fairly snarled: “I’ll tell you 
this. Miss. You’re my darter, your name’s Chip 
Fogg, and you’re a pesky little fool !” 

She threw her off so roughly that Chip nearly 
fell, crossed to her husband, pushed him over and 
nearly off the settee, and sat beside him. 

Miss Fogg was not deficient either in courage or 
temper, and in her indignation might have made 
matters unpleasant for the elder female, but for 
the coming in of Judge Norwood. 

“In trouble, little girl?” he said, as if he had 
overheard. “Never mind, it has been gloomy for a 
long time, but dawn is near.” 

He led her gently to a seat near the fire, and just 
as she sat down his daughter entered the drawing 
room. 

“You sent for me. Father. What did you wish?” 
Here she noticed the Fogg’s, and in a tone of 
haughty surprise inquired: “What guests are 
these?” In facing her father as she spoke, she 
saw the other figure, and recognized her at once, 


THE BEGINNING OE THE END 


81 ? 


crying furiously: ^^Chip! How dare you come 
here?’’ 

^^She came at my request,” answered the Judge 
calmly. 

‘^She went at your request,” was the hot retort. 
^‘She w’as driven from this house as a thief!” 

It was the other girl’s turn to show temper now. 
She walked over to Miss Norwood proudly, looked 
her fairly in the eye, and replied: 

‘^Oh, no! Not as a thief — and not driven.” 
Then somewhat yaguely and perhaps inconsist- 
ently she added: “The Judge wished me to leave 
—and I left!” 

“Don’t split hairs with me,” Blanche rejoined 
sternly. “You ran away under charges. But 
never mind. You know I detest the sight of you. 
Leave my house!” 

Miss Fogg looked questioningly at Judge Nor- 
wood, who smiled, with a slight shake of the head. 

“I will not moye an inch,” said Chip, slowly and 
proudly. “And please do not attempt airs with 
me. In all that makes the lady I stand here your 
equal!” 

With these words she moved composedly back 
to her seat. Blanche looked at her father. 

“Am I mistress in this house?” she asked. 


318 


FOGCS FERRY 


''Hardly,” he returned. "Until after certain 
preliminaries I am still master of Norwood.” 

Blanche again looked at the Foggs. 

"And these people?” 

The subjects of this sarcastic query arose, 
bowed politely, and said in chorus : 

"Mr. and Mrs. Fogg.” Then reseated them- 
selves complacently. 

"Why are they here?” asked the young lady of 
her parent, scornfully ignoring them. 

"For a purpose. I also invited them. Be seat- 
ed, and you will soon know why.” 

The girl hesitated. She was almost bursting 
with rage. But she always held a reverence for her 
father, and his present manner impressed her 
with awe and even dread. She overcame a first 
inclination to leave the apartment in indignation, 
curiosity mastering every other feeling, and final- 
ly, after a brief hesitancy, she flung herself into 
a corner chair, turning her back scornfully upon 
the assemblage. 

The Judge looked at his child compassionately, 
then beckoned the ferry girl to his side, took her 
hand, and led her to her mother. 

"Mrs. Fogg,” he said, "we want the truth now. 
Who is this little girl?” 



“I say it are a lie, Governor 1 ** 



THE BEGINNING OF THE END 


821 


The old woman turned upon him with an expreS' 
sion of sulky defiance. 

“You know — my darter.” 

Norwood smiled. 

“Fogg, I ask you. Who is this child?” 

The ferryman seemed embarrassed. He bit his 
lips, looked about as if for assistance, but, after 
a pause, managed to stammer: 

“She are our own female progenity. Under- 
stand?” 

Judge Norwood looked to the door. 

“And what do you say, Jim Bolter?” 

Supported by Still and Gerald White, the burly 
figure of “Old Grizzly,” with a face ghastly, al- 
most deathly in its pallor, filled the entrance. He 
answered huskily, but in firm tones: 

“I say it are a lie, Governor, — and Zeb Fogg 
thar knows it are!” 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


THE STOEY TOLD. 

Mr. Fogg sprang up and turned to the speaker 
piteously: 

^^Don’t you blow, Jimmy, don’t blow!” 

His better half pulled him down savagely, ex- 
claiming in a sharp whisper intended for Fogg’s 
ear alone: ‘‘Shetup! He’s got no proof.” 

‘^Go on, Mr. Bolter,” said the Judge, seating 
himself near Chip, “tell the entire story.” 

“I will, pardner,” was the man’s reply, in a 
somewhat feeble voice, “if you’ll only guv me a 
chair.” 

White and Still Bill seated the shaky figure 
near the door, so that he faced the entire assem- 
blage during the narrative he was about to com- 
\ mence. They had just left him, and moved off to 
each side, when Bruce Rawdon, who had been 
standing in the hall so as to both see and over- 
hear, bent over him from behind, with a sharp 
whisper: “For God’s sake, man, be silent. It 
shall be worth your while.” 

( 82 !^ 


THE STORY TOLD 


323 


no, I won’t,” answered Grizzly, turning to 
look at the speaker, ‘‘Pm here to talk!” 

If a look could kill^ Mr. Bolter would assuredly 
have fallen dead as before a lightning’s bolt, so 
fierce and malignant was the glare Eawdon be- 
stowed on him. Nevertheless the old fellow did 
not quail, and the brief scene was broken by the 
younger gentleman retreating to the rear of his 
wife’s chair. As Rawdon left, Miss Fogg knelt 
beside the old man, who she felt held her destiny 
in his hands. He glanced down at her, patted her 
head gently, and said: 

“Little Bright-eyes, I’m goin’ to do you a good 
turn afore I pass in my checks.” 

“You look very ill, my friend,” replied the girl 
sympathetically. “Pray do not distress yourself. 
Another time — ” 

The old fellow shook his head with a wan smile. 

“Another time would be too late. It’s now or 
never, gal. The Doctor up yonder,” with a glance 
upward, “has fixed it so. Now, gents and ladies 
all, thar was once a gent come over the mountains 
from the East coast, along of the mines, and he 
brung with him a purty, white-haired wife. He 
settled hereabouts. So did I — in the hills. So 
did Zeb Fogg thar. Well, a few years went by. 


FOGG^S FERRY 


m 

and the gent he got kinder rich. — So didn’t 1 — so 
didn’t Fogg. Too much fire-water, eh, Zebby?” 

The old ferryman, who was bent down with his 
head resting in his hands, grunted: ^^Don’t un- 
derstand.” 

Jim Bolter laughed as he continued: “Pardners, 
all, they had a child, this gent and lady, a babby 
girl, a matter of a few months old or so. That 
were nigh onto twenty year ago, you know.” 

The man paused to breathe, and Chip, who was 
hanging upon his every syllable, exclaimed eager- 
ly: “Yes, yes; go on!” 

Smiling at her impatience, the man went on: 
“You shall have the whole of it, little un, if you’ll 
give me time. One cold winter night — ’twere just 
arter New Year, I remember, — the babby were^ 
gone! Eh, Zebulon?” 

“Don’t understand,” Fogg returned, and in a 
very husky tone. 

Grizzly looked at the ferryman,, and then threw 
back his head, and indulged im a hearty, though 
silent laugh. 

“You zvill lie!” he finally exclaimed. “Two men 
stole that kid, calkilatin’ to raise a stake. But it 
made too big a row. Vigilanters was out thick, 
and they was clean bluffed — too skeerd to try fer 


THE STORY TOLD 


325 


the reward as was advertised. One of them men 
were married, and his old woman had a little nn 
of her own — a gal, too. Well, the purty, fair- 
haired mother as had lost her girl wilted and 
faded, and arter awhile she was put away under 
the sod. Then the tother man’s wife sent back to 
the gent as was left alone a babby, but not the 
babby. She sent her own little gal to be raised 
rich, and held onto the stolen younker to fotch 
up for her own!” 

It may readily be imagined that Grizzly’s last 
words created a sensation. There was an inter- 
change of looks in which awe seemed to predom- 
inate, and a momentary silence, which was broken 
by Mrs. Fogg, who got to her feet, and fairly 
shrieked: 

^^Don’t listen to him. When he says I changed 
them gals he lies!” 

^^He didn’t say so,” cried Chip, springing up and 
facing the old woman. ^Tt is your own guilt that 
speaks!” 

The woman cringed before the accusation, 
looked for help to her spouse, who however only 
hung his head, and slunk back to her seat without 
a word more. Chip turned to Bolter. 

^^Go on. The stolen child?” 


326 


FOGCS FERRY 


‘^Can’t you guess, little un? Yes, I see you doV^ 

“You mean me! Then my father — ’’ 

“Oh, he’s a big man now — a judge.” 

“One moment, please,” cut in Mr. Rawdon, has- 
tily. “This old scoundrel’s wild yarn is contra- 
dicted by the girl’s own mother. Where is his 
proof?” 

“Here!” was Mr. Bolter’s prompt response, as 
he shook aloft his fire-rescued prize. “Here’s the 
werry locket as hung about the babby’s neck the 
night she were stole.” 

Chip reached up and took the bauble. 

“I know this. Mammy Fogg used to keep it in 
our bureau, and said it was stolen at the time I 
came here to teach.” 

“I reckon it were,” said Mr. Bolter, “by him.” 
Indicating Rawdon, who had gone back to his 
place in the corner. “He tried to burn it in that 
grate.” 

“Then it is my locket!” said the girl. 

“I reckon it’s nothin’ shorter. And thar, gal,” 
pointing to the Judge, who had risen, “is your 
father!” 

Chip turned to the old gentleman wistfully. 

“Can this really be true?” 

“Yes,” he answered. “It is true. I felt it when 


THE STORY TOLD 


327 

I first saw you. I have known it for three years. 
But I needed this man to prove it.” Saying which 
he took his child tenderly in his arms with the 
words: “My own little Blanche at last!” 

What might have been an awkward stop in the 
proceedings was bridged over by the entrance of 
the man, Still, carrying Mr. Rawdon^s hat. He 
drew the latter^s attention by a gentle touch on 
the arm, politely handed him the head gear, 
pointed to the entrance, and uttered the signifi- 
cant monosyllable: “Door!” 

Bruce Rawdon snatched his hat angrily, looked 
at the servant as though he could annihilate him, 
then, with a sudden change of manner, took a step 
forward, ahd said jauntily: 

“Judge Norwood, it positively grieves me to 
leave this pleasant gathering. But my wife and I 
are celebrating our wedding day, you know, and 
you and Chip must excuse us. Zebulon, old boy, 
look to that wife of yours. Youth and beauty are 
dangerous gifts to a woman. Come, Blanche, we 
must tear ourselves away. Au revoir, all — sweet 
dreams — best wishes.” 

And with a pleasant smile he made a graceful 
exit. 

Zeb Fogg, who had followed his words and 


328 


FOGG'S FERRY 


movements with admiration, turned to his wife 
and said: ^^He understands!” 

After a slight hesitation, Blanche walked over 
to her parent’s newly-found daughter, and with a 
bitter, scornful ring to her voice, fairly hissed: 
‘^You have come up from the ferry to a fortune, 
have you, my lady? Well, with all the wealth in 
the world, you will still be an uncouth, ill-bred, 
vulgar upstart, and he will be ashamed of you. 
As far as the money goes, I hope that every piece 
of gold may burn and blister.” 

The girl seemed perfectly beside herself with 
rage, as she swept up to the door. Mrs. Fogg at- 
tempted to intercept her. 

^‘My poor child!” she cried. 

^^Don’t speak to me! you old hag!” shouted her 
dutiful offspring, dashing away the old woman’s 
hand. 

^^Hag!” repeated the latter, looking at her 
spouse. 

“She understands !” suggested the ferryman, re- 
sponding to the glance. 

There was a significant tap upon his shoulder. 
He looked up. He beheld at his elbow Mr. Wil- 
liam Still. That gentleman was indulging in an 


fHB STORY TOLD 


329 


extraordinary contortion of the muscles of the 
face, inviting attention to the open exit. 

The old man accepted the unmistakable hint 
implied by the gesture, and arose promptly, say- 
ing : “ W e understand !” 

Here, hovrever, the girl he had until now 
claimed as his own child, and who really felt for 
the old ferryman something like the affection of 
a daughter for a parent, came to him, and took 
his hand, with the words: ^^You do not under- 
stand. True, I have found a father, but you must 
always be my DadT’ 

^^And me mammy interrupted Mrs. Fogg, with 
an insinuating grin. 

Chip ignored this appeal, and returned to the 
Judge without even looking at the speaker. She 

was not divine enough to forgive all. 

* * * * * 

For the audience of to-day when the play is 
ended the curtain cannot descend too rapidly. 
The poetic address to the listeners of past de- 
cades, the often witty or eloquent epilogue which 
was wont to delight our ancestors, even the nec- 
essary explanation requisite to brush aside the 
clouds which have overcast the plot, will not be 
listened to longer. 


330 


FOGCS FERRY 


As soon as the finish heaves in sight, like the 
first glimpse of land to the returning voyagers, the 
bonds which have held together the audience are 
severed, and the members scatter broadcast. 
They seem to prefer to themselves divine the 
future of their mimic heroes and heroines, or, > 
to be more exact, to endow them with a future of 
their own construction. 

By no means is this matter of regret. It econ- 
omizes time and labor; and besides no one will 
find fault with a career of his or her own forecast- 
ing. 

So, having bestowed upon Miss Chip, whilom 
of the ferry and the school, a fortune and a father, 
I will leave her, with her lover at her elbow, to 
the imagination of the reader. She has had ample 
time to have wedded Gerald White. This is, of 
course, a consummation which every well regu- 
lated listener devoutly expects. But they have as 
yet failed to live long afterwards in a state of 
beatific happiness, and die happy, because, while 
content and lasting love may have smoothed their 
journey, only a few years have elapsed since the 
memorable evening just described, and they yet 
live on, and bid fair to do so for many a day to 


come. 


THE STORY TOLD 


331 


For the same reason it cannot be chronicled 
that the beneyolent Judge Norwood, after a long 
and exemplary career, has departed for that 
bourne we hear so much about and know so little 
of. I must also forego to state all the nice pres- 
ents the said Judge has given the young woman 
who for many years figured as his daughter. Like- 
wise his kindnesses to the couple who had been 
his little girPs kidnappers. 

So we are compelled by modern impatience to 
leave them in the midst of their uneventful lives, 
much in the fashion of ourselves, and with the 
same uncertainty as to to-morrow. 

To this we state one exception. Poor James 
Bolter survived his confession of the child-steal- 
ing a very few weeks. The man was even then in 
the last stages of a slow decline, and after his tale 
was told was conveyed to an apartment on the 
upper floor, which he never left, except to enter 
upon that last long journey we are all fated to 
take. 

In the little family cemetery upon the Norwood 
estate there is a grave surmounted with a stone of 
native Tennessee marble, whose odd inscription is 
merely the two words, ‘^Old Grizzly.’^ 


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